Against the Branding
by IMTheresa
Summary: Sick 20-year old Dean becomes the target of angry spirits and his family rushes to find a solution.
1. Chapter 1

**Against the Branding**

IMTheresa

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**A/N**: KazCon, the fan convention held in Lawrence, Kansas this summer, sponsored an author auction as part of their charity auction. My high-bidder was Tammy and she wanted for a Wee!Chester story. This is has gotten her seal of approval and I wanted to share it with everyone here. Thanks for bidding on me, Tammy!

A total of $2,562 was donated to the National Lung Cancer Partnership in honor of Kim Manners.

**Disclaimer:** The officially licensed merchandise is my only claim to Supernatural ownership. No infringement intended.

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**Chapter 1**

Sam Winchester was having a good day. He'd found out earlier that he'd aced a trigonometry test the day before and was now having fun touring the Field Museum in Chicago. He'd never been to such a big museum, and he had to admit that even after being inside for almost two hours, he was still a little intimidated.

He and his family actually lived in Merrillville, Indiana, but it was only about an hour from Chicago by car, and the school district planned several field trips to the city each year. Sam had gotten enrolled in school just in time for the trip to the Shedd Aquarium a few months before.

He had no idea how long his family would live in the small house his dad had found, but Sam thought it was one of the best places they'd ever lived. The neighborhood was nice enough, and the house didn't look like it was about to be condemned. He liked his school, and had even managed to make a couple of friends. Of course, he knew not to let them get too close, but he still liked having kids his own age to hang around with. He'd always spent a lot of time studying, but with his older brother working at that garage, he'd had more time to himself than he liked until he started to spend time with Rick and Andy.

The two other boys lived nearby, they had a lot of the same classes and all were interested in making good grades. They also liked the same kinds of books and movies, and Sam thought the other two were almost as good at Chess as his brother. There was a fourth boy who spent time with them, but Tim's family seemed even more secretive than Sam's, and they saw him mostly only at school.

After a guided tour through some of the museum's exhibits, the students were taken to the reserved lunch area. They'd all had to bring bag lunches, and after collecting theirs, Sam and his friends chose seats together. They talked about what they'd seen, and what was still in store for the afternoon.

"You guys want to go see that new _Lost in Space _movie this weekend?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, it looks pretty cool," Andy said.

"I don't know," Sam hesitated. "I think it looks lame."

"Oh, come on. It's something to do," Rick insisted.

"I guess. What about you, Tim?"

"I have to ask my folks."

Sam nodded. He should probably talk to Dean before committing himself too, but he figured his brother would be working anyway.

"We have that big history test next week," Rick reminded them. "How about after the movie, we do some studying?"

"Yeah, okay," Rick agreed. "Can you at least study with us, Tim?"

"I'll have to let you know."

Sam glanced at Tim as he picked up his sandwich and bit into it, his expression neutral. Sam couldn't think of one time that the group had hung out at Tim's house. They'd even been to Sam's, even though his family had more than their share of secrets. He wondered what went on behind the closed doors of Tim's house, and hoped that it was nothing too bad.

After lunch, there was another guided tour through more exhibits in the giant building, followed by a fairly quiet bus ride back to Merrillville. The school day ended before they got back to the school, but there was a line of cars parked at the curb where parents waited for their children to return from the field trip. Sam scanned them as they passed, but he didn't see his brother's Impala.

Their dad had given it to him for his birthday the previous year, but had continued to drive it until only recently when he got a new truck. The Winchester home was less than a mile from the school, but Dean was almost always there to pick Sam up.

"Want a ride, Winchester?" Rick called as Sam started for the street.

Sam looked around again, thinking he may have just somehow missed the big black car. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

"Hi, Sam," Rick's mom smiled as he crawled into the backseat. "Did you like the museum?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's a lot bigger than I thought."

Rick got into the front seat and closed the door. "We should go back some time."

"Yeah, that would be great," Sam agreed. He didn't think it would ever happen, though.

"Is your father still out of town?" Rick's mother asked with a glance into the rearview mirror.

"Yes, ma'am. He should be home in a few days, though."

"And your brother? Is he at work?"

Sam knew Mrs. Carver wasn't prying. Well, maybe she was, but she meant well. She wasn't trying to pull information out of him for any other reason than because she was concerned. Sam might be 15, but she didn't know how well he'd been trained to take care of himself. She didn't know about the stash of weapons in the house, or about Sam's advanced hand-to-hand combat skills. Sam had to suppress a smile when he wondered if she'd be more worried if she knew the truth.

"Dean should be off tonight," Sam said. "But the garage doesn't close until 6, so he might not be home yet."

She pulled into the empty driveway. "You have a key, right?"

"Yes. Thanks for the ride."

"No problem."

"See you at school tomorrow, Rick."

"See ya, Sam."

Sam got out of the car and pulled his house keys from his backpack. He opened the door, then turned to wave at the Carvers. Mrs. Carver waved back before slowly backing into the street. Sam went inside, closing and locking the door behind him before he continued further into the house.

He was sure Dean had told him he'd pick him up after the field trip, but it was clear that his brother wasn't home. Sam dropped his backpack next to the couch and walked into the kitchen. His cereal bowl was still in the sink, not that he thought Dean would have done the dishes. He grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator and checked the answering machine for messages. There weren't any.

Sighing, Sam went back to the living room and took his history book from his backpack. He didn't really have any homework, but he figured he'd get a head start studying for the history test. He saw his cell phone in the pocket of the backpack; he always had it with him for emergencies, but never turned it on at school. He did now, and found he had no messages.

Setting it on the coffee table in front of him, Sam got comfortable on the worn couch and opened the text book. He'd barely gotten started reading when he heard the familiar growl of the Impala's engine. Sam felt more relieved than he should have – there hadn't been any reason to worry about Dean.

"Hey," Sam said as the front door opened.

"Hey. Sorry I wasn't at school when you got there. I had to work late."

"That's okay."

"Did you eat?"

"No. Can we get a pizza?"

"Make the call. I need a shower." Dean walked past him and dropped some money on the coffee table.

The brothers sat together on the couch after the pizza had been delivered, watching television, talking and eating. Sam noticed that Dean didn't seem his usual self, and he ate much less pizza than he normally did. He didn't ask any questions; Dean wouldn't open up unless he wanted to. Sam also thought his bother's interest in the Field Museum was odd. It wasn't that Dean didn't care what Sam did – Sam figured he cared more than a lot of older brothers – but Dean seemed more willing than usual to listen to Sam talk about things that didn't normally hold a lot of fascination for him.

"I've got some studying to do," Sam said once he was finished eating. "I'm gonna go to the bedroom."

"Okay."

Sam glanced at Dean, still a little concerned, but he didn't say anything. He took his books and headed down the hallway.

The house had only two bedrooms, but some of the places they'd lived before just had one. They'd also lived in motel rooms, and even fairly recently, the brothers had had to share a bed. Sam didn't mind sharing a room with Dean. It had never really been any other way, and he liked having his brother nearby.

Sam expected Dean to come into the bedroom later, but he woke up to find the other bed empty. He didn't remember intentionally going to sleep; he noticed the lamp was still on and he was fully dressed. He glanced around the room, and according to the clock on the bedside table, it was almost 3am.

Sam flung his legs over the side of the bed, and felt something other than the floor under his feet. Looking down, he saw his history book and figured it had fallen and the sound of it hitting the floor was what had awakened him. He picked it up and set it on the desk as he walked past.

He could hear the television on in the living room, but when he got there, he saw that Dean was sleeping on the couch. Sam took the remote from the coffee table and lowered the volume. If he turned it off, the room would have been plunged into darkness. He thought about it for a moment, then went to the bedroom to get a blanket. He covered his brother and turned off the TV. Satisfied that he wouldn't wake, Sam went back to bed.

The next time Sam opened his eyes, the sun was coming through the window. He looked at the clock; the alarm would be going off in a couple of minutes. He decided not to wait, and he turned it off before getting out of bed. He stopped mid-step when he heard Dean in the bathroom. It sounded like he was throwing up.

He stood outside the door for a few moments, but decided it would be better not to hover. He was back in the bedroom when Dean walked in. Sam could see he was pale and was moving slowly.

"Time for you to be up already?" Dean asked, his voice a little rough.

"Just about. How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. You'd better get into the shower," Dean said and laid down on his still-made bed.

"I heard you," Sam said quietly. "Are you okay?"

Dean looked a little surprised. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Did you drink last night?"

"No, I was here all night, remember?"

"You can drink here, too, you know." Sam had seen their father drunk a lot when he was younger, but not so much lately. He didn't like it when Dean got drunk, but he really hated it when Dean experimented with drugs. He didn't think it had happened often, but Sam knew he'd done it more than once when their father was out of town.

"I didn't drink," Dean said.

Sam watched him for a moment, then stood up. "I'm gonna get ready for school. I'll walk."

"I can take you."

"That's okay. You don't look so good."

"I always look good," Dean said as Sam walked past him.

-----

Once Dean heard the water running in the bathroom, he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his midsection. He felt horrible; the vague pain he'd had in his gut yesterday had exploded overnight. He was pretty sure he had a fever, too.

He'd hoped Sam wouldn't hear him throwing up, but he couldn't stop it. When he'd first woken up, he thought that something had attacked him – he'd never felt a burning in his abdomen like he did now. Throwing up had made him feel a little better, but he wondered how he was going to make it through a day of work.

Dean liked his job. He liked working on cars and his boss was great. Jackson reminded Dean a lot of his dad….at least how he wished his dad was more often. He used to love working on the Impala with his father. Most of the time spent under the hood included a lot of laughing and smiling. His dad didn't laugh and smile so much any more, and Dean missed it.

Dean's eyes were closed tight when Sam came back into the room. He heard his brother's footsteps, and the sound of drawers opening and closing. He knew that Sam was perfectly capable of getting himself to school, but he still felt guilty. Sam almost never had to walk to school, and even if all he was having for breakfast was cereal, Dean would at least get the bowl out of the cupboard for him. He knew it was stupid, but he'd taken care of Sam his entire life, and it was a hard habit to break just because Sam was tall enough to reach the bowls for himself.

"Dean?"

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam sitting on the edge of his own bed, putting on his shoes.

"You need anything before I go?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"Uh-huh." Sam clearly didn't believe him.

"You get breakfast?"

"Yeah."

"Lunch money?"

"Yeah."

"I work until 6 again tonight." Dean ignored the look Sam gave him. "You'll have to get yourself home."

"Okay. You sure you can work?"

"Don't worry about me."

Sam stood up. "Whatever you say."

Dean knew that Sam paused in the doorway before turning to go, and when he heard the front door close, Dean rushed to the bathroom and threw up again. He took something for nausea, and after a long shower, felt a little better. He didn't try to eat breakfast, and didn't even look at the coffee maker.

Dean made it to work, but after only an hour had to rush to the bathroom. He was splashing cold water on his face when his boss opened the door.

"This ain't a hangover." Jackson was older than John Winchester by a good 10 years, but he carried himself the same way and had a similar no-nonsense personality. Except, Dean realized, Jackson was a lot more gentle than his dad.

"Probably just the flu or something," Dean said, looking at him in the dirty mirror that hung over the sink.

"If you're sick, what are you doing here?"

"There's work to do."

"Not in your condition," Jackson said kindly. "Go home, Dean. Get some rest, get yourself well and don't come back until Monday."

"But –"

"Listen to your boss. And stop at the drug store on your way home."

Dean was about to protest, but didn't think it would do any good. Besides, he knew how to follow orders. "Okay. Thanks, Jackson."

"Your dad home yet?"

Dean shook his head.

"You call me if you need anything, okay?" Jackson put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I will."

-----

Dean drove home, not sure there was anything at the drug store they didn't already have at the house. He wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't fall over in one of the aisles, anyway. He barely made it inside before the pain in his side flared. It hit him so suddenly that he would have fallen to his knees had he not been so close to the couch.

He managed to lie down, but it wasn't long before he was in the bathroom. The rest of the day was spent between there and the bedroom, and by the time Sam got home at 3:00, Dean was very sick.

He heard the front door open and Sam calling his name, but Dean couldn't make himself respond. He heard Sam coming down the hallway, and then his voice from the doorway. If Dean hadn't happened to be facing that direction, he wouldn't have been able to see the concern on his brother's face. He gathered all the strength he could muster. "Hey. How was school?"

"Why aren't you at work?"

"Jackson sent me home. There wasn't much going on."

"You're sick." Sam sounded certain.

"Little under the weather is all. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, right. Dean, come on. I can _see_ you, all right? I know you're sick. Have you taken anything?"

Dean looked at Sam for a moment. Even though he was a little blurry, his determined expression was evident. Dean realized he had no choice but to be honest with him. "Nothing much has helped. I can't keep it down long enough."

Sam moved into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on Dean's forehead, and Dean couldn't manage to push him away. "You're burning up. I'll be right back."

Dean thought he might have fallen asleep before Sam got back. He realized there was something cold on his face. "Sammy….?"

"It's just a cold compress," Sam said, suddenly sounding much older than his 15 years. "When did you throw up last?"

"I'm not sure," Dean said. "I haven't been keeping track of the time."

"Have you tried to eat or drink anything?"

"Just some water earlier." Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd been sick, but he was sure Sam had never had to take care of him. He was surprised at how adult he sounded, and how gentle his movements were.

"You hurt anywhere? Your stomach?"

"Sometimes. Mostly I just feel sick." Dean desperately wanted to put on his game face and pretend everything was okay, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from being honest.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Sam…."

"Where?" he asked again, sounding firm.

"It's hard to pinpoint," Dean said. "My side, I think?"

"It could be appendicitis."

"Okay, Chicken Little."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"It's probably just food poisoning."

"From the pizza? I'm not sick. What else did you eat yesterday?"

"Jackson bought everyone sandwiches for lunch. I had ham." Even the thought of food was making Dean queasy.

"Anyone else have ham?"

"Jackson did. He's fine, though. Maybe it's just the flu."

"We gotta get this fever down," Sam muttered. Dean saw him dip another cloth into a bowl of ice water. He didn't protest as Sam wiped his arms with it. "You might need a doctor."

"You know that isn't an option."

"We might not have a choice." Sam lifted Dean's t-shirt and wiped down his chest. Dean closed his eyes, not sure if he didn't want to see anything because of how bad he felt or that his little brother was giving him a sponge bath. "You should try to take some Tylenol. I'll go get it."

Once Sam was back in the room, Dean took the pills he offered. He only drank enough water to get them down, then settled back into the pillow while Sam replaced the cold compress. A few minutes later, he rolled onto his side as a fresh wave of pain overtook him.

"Sammy…."

Sam suddenly appeared on the other side of the bed with a trash can. "Here, Dean."

Dean leaned over the side of the bed, retching into the metal container. There was nothing left in his stomach, but the pain was incredible. He lay with his head still off the bed while Sam took the trash can away. Dean heard water in the bathroom running, but Sam was back at his side quickly.

Dean was shaking and his head was beginning to hurt, but he didn't want to move. He felt Sam rubbing his back – just like Dean used to do for him when he was little.

"Dean, this isn't the flu. You need a doctor."

"Sam…."

"We have the fake insurance cards. Dad set it up for emergencies."

Dean didn't say anything and Sam continued to rub his back. Dean concentrated on the small circles Sam's hand made, and though he would never admit it, he felt somewhat soothed. "Let's give it some more time."

"You threw up less than five minutes after swallowing a tiny bit of water. You need a doctor."

"Look, I –"

"You'd take me if I'd been throwing up all day."

Dean turned his head to look at his brother. He was right, but that still didn't mean he was going to let Sam take him to a doctor.

"Where are you car keys?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"Your car keys. I'm taking you to that urgent care place near the mall."

"If I'm not better in the morning…." Dean felt Sam lift up the back of his t-shirt, and a moment later he felt the cool cloth.

"You think you could stand up long enough to take a shower?"

"I don't think I want a cold shower."

"Not cold," Sam said. "Lukewarm. A cold shower could shock your system."

"Yeah." Dean looked at him from the corner of his eye. "Where'd you learn all this?"

Sam shook his head, his expression saying he thought that was a dumb question. "From you."

-----

Sam started the water in the shower, then helped Dean to the bathroom. Even with Sam holding him, Dean was too weak to stand for very long. There was no stopper for the tub, but Sam had shoved a wash cloth into the drain opening so the bathtub could with water. He helped Dean strip down to his shorts, then steadied him while he got into the tub and sat down.

"Lay back. Get as much of you in the water as you can." Sam told him. "It's not too hot or cold, is it? The water?"

Dean shook his head as he submerged himself as much as possible. "It's fine."

Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder; his skin felt hot. Dean looked at him with gratitude.

"You're probably dehydrated. If you can't keep water down, there's no way you're gonna keep anything else down. There's only one way to fix that."

"Maybe once the fever is down," Dean said.

"Yeah. Maybe." Sam was doubtful, but it was possible.

Dean was in the tub for just over fifteen minutes when he started to drift off. Sam kept an eye on him, his hand not leaving his shoulder. He was worried, but he knew the Hunter credo – doctors and hospitals were a last resort. He was pretty sure they'd end up seeking medical care, though.

"Dean," Sam called a little later. "Wake up, Dean. You need to get out of the water now."

Dean's eyes fluttered open. He didn't seem to know where he was.

"You with me?" Sam asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Dean ran a wet hand over his face. "Yeah."

"Let's get you dressed and back to bed."

Once Dean was back in the bedroom, Sam helped him put on clean clothes and then got him under the covers. "How do you feel now?"

"You won't believe me if I say better, so why ask?" Dean had a glint in his eye.

"You wanna try some water?"

Dean's expression clouded. "I don't think so. I actually do feel halfway decent right now, and I don't wanna mess that up."

"Yeah, I know, but you need fluid. And now might be the best time to get the pills to stay down."

Dean looked uncertain, but after a long moment, he nodded. "All right."

Sam patted his leg, then went to get the water and medicine. Once Dean had swallowed it and a little water, Sam moved the clean trash can to the bedside and moved to his own bed to wait.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean called, sounding as if he was only moments from sleep.

"Yeah?"

"Did you salt the doors and windows?"

Sam cocked his head to one side. They usually only took that precaution when they weren't staying in a place long enough for more subtle protection schemes. They hadn't used salt in the house since the first week they'd been in town.

"No, why?"

"Just do it, okay?"

"But we have –"

"I thought there was something around here earlier."

Sam figured that had been because of the fever, but he knew better than to discount anything. "Something like what?"

Dean didn't respond, and his steady breathing said he'd fallen asleep. Sam waited for a few moments, then went to do as his brother had asked before he settled in the hallway to watch Dean. Sam was afraid even walking into the bedroom would disturb him, and he wanted Dean to sleep.

When he heard the phone ringing an hour later, Sam rushed to the closest extension. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sammy, it's Dad. How are things going there?"

Sam sat down on his father's bed. "Dad."

"I called your brother's cell phone, but got his voicemail. Is he still at work?"

Sam glanced at the clock on the table next to the phone. It was almost 6:00. "Um, no, Dad. He's here."

"What's going on?"

"Dean's sick."

"What do you mean, he's sick?"

"He's sleeping now, but he's been throwing up all day. He has a fever, and…."

"And what?"

"He has a pain in his side. I'm afraid he has appendicitis. He called me Chicken Little when I said that, but –"

"No, it's a good guess, Sammy. I want you to get him to a doctor."

"I told him that, but he didn't want to go. I got him into the bath, and I think that brought the fever down. He took some Tylenol about half an hour ago, and he hasn't thrown it up. Maybe I'm wrong, but he's never been this sick before."

"See how he is when he wakes up," John Winchester said. "If you think he needs to see a doctor, get him to one. You know where the insurance cards are?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you know how to handle the questions?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy. I'm just about finished here, but I'm at least a day and a half drive from you. I'll probably get on the road tomorrow. You doin' okay?"

Sam wanted to tell his dad to come home, but instead he sat up straighter. "Yes, sir. I'm all right."

"You sure?"

"I'm just worried about my brother."

"Look, I'll get home as soon as I can, okay? In the meantime, I know Aidan isn't too far away. I'll call him and see if he's available."

Sam was surprised, but glad his father had offered that option. "Thanks, Dad."

"Yeah, in fact, let me call him now. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

-----

Aidan Prichard was a good friend of the Winchester family. John found him when he was twelve years old; hiding in the basement of his parents' house after they had been killed by demons. He took the frightened boy to Jim Murphy, where he stayed until he was eighteen. He lived in the children's home run by the pastor's church, but Jim recognized his special ability and stayed very involved in the boy's life.

Aidan wasn't psychic, but he could often see things that others couldn't. He saw ghosts and other spirits before they manifested and he could generally sense when a spirit or demon was nearby. Trained primarily by John, he could also hunt and kill almost any supernatural creature that existed. John was never sure if he thought of Aidan as another son or as a younger brother, but he was always welcome in his home and he was one of the few people he trusted with his sons.

John knew Sam was more capable of handling a crisis than most boys his age. He was probably more capable than men twice his age, but if Dean really was sick enough for a doctor, the 15-year old was going to need help.

"Hey, John, long time no hear. How's it going?"

"There might be a problem at home. Where are you?"

"Not that far. I was going to drop by –"

"Would you be able to head that now?"

"Uh, yeah. What kind of problem?"

John told him what he'd learned from Sam, and Aidan immediately agreed to drive to Merrillville. "I'm maybe four or five hours away. I had a job in Detroit."

"A hunt?" John asked, knowing that Aidan earned money as an artist.

"No. I had a meeting with an indie comic book company. They want me to work with one of their writers."

"That's great, kid. I'm proud of you. Are you sure you can get away?"

"Yeah, the meeting is over. I've got some drawings to work on for them, but I don't have to be here to do it. We're meeting again in a couple of weeks."

"Thanks, Aidan. I'll get home as soon as I can."

"Sure, John. Let me give Sam a call to –"

"I want to talk to him again. Can you give me about five or ten minutes?"

"Yeah, no problem. I'll just get packed up, and I'll call him from the road."

-----

Sam ended the second call with his father, relieved to hear that Aidan was on his way. He was also glad that Dean was still asleep, and seemed to be peaceful. He didn't want to disturb his brother, but he also didn't want to be too far away. He stayed in the hallway, knees up to his chin, the telephone handset next to him. He talked to Aidan for a few minutes, but when the call ended, he felt a little lost.

He thought back to what Dean had said about thinking something had been around the house. Of course it was possible, but Sam thought it more likely the cause had been Dean's fever. Still, he walked around the house to make sure the salt lines had not been disturbed before he returned to his spot in the hall.

Sam wasn't sure how long he was watching his brother from the hallway when Dean started to groan. He was on his feet immediately, hoping Dean would stay asleep. Instead, his brother's eyes opened and he rolled onto his side, reaching for the trash can.

Sam sat down on the edge of Dean's bed and put a hand on his back. "It's okay, Dean."

"What time is it?" Dean asked once the vomiting stopped. He rolled onto his back.

"Almost 8. You slept for about two hours, but I can tell the fever is up again."

"I don't feel so good, Sammy."

"I know."

"I think there's something really wrong."

Sam felt a sharp coldness in the pit of his stomach. "You wanna go to the doctor?"

Dean looked at him. "No, but I think I need to."

"Okay, Dean," Sam struggled to keep his voice steady. "Dad said I should take you to the doctor, so….Where are the car keys?"

"In my coat, out in the living room."

"I'll get your shoes. Stay here."

Sam helped Dean with his shoes, then put on his own. He got the insurance cards from their dad's dresser and slipped them into his back pocket. The walk to the car was slow, and Dean threw up again outside, but they finally got on the road.

Sam wasn't old enough for a driver's license, but he had a fake ID and Dean had taught him to drive as soon as his feet could touch the pedals. John had taught Dean to drive young, too, just in case he was ever too hurt to get the family to safety. Sam was nervous behind the wheel, but that was more because his brother was sick. He knew how to drive and he knew how to get to the urgent care center.

There were only a few other cars in the parking lot when Sam pulled the Impala into a spot. It had taken less than 20 minutes to get there, and Dean's eyes had been closed the whole way. That had added to Sam's nervousness, because Dean always paid attention when Sam was driving his car.

Dean leaned on Sam heavily as they walked into the lobby of the clinic. Sam got him settled into a chair near the door before approaching the counter. After talking to the receptionist, he glanced around the room before returning to his brother with a clipboard full of papers to fill out. There were three other people scattered around, but none of them seemed to be as sick as Dean.

It was half an hour before Dean's name was finally called. The nurse told Sam he couldn't stay with Dean while he was being examined, so Sam stepped out into the parking lot and slipped his phone out of his pocket to call his father. He wasn't too surprised to get voicemail. He left a message, then called Aidan.

As soon as he heard his friend's voice, Sam lost the last of his composure. He sank to the ground, and found he couldn't speak. He didn't know what Aidan was saying to him, but the calming tone helped him to pull himself back together.

"Dean's with a doctor," Sam finally said.

"What happened?"

"He woke up and threw up again. His fever was back….he told me to take him to the doctor."

"Look, Sam, I'm going as fast as I can, okay? I'll be there soon. You can hold on until then, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam wasn't at all positive he could, but he knew he had no choice.

"Is there anyone there you can call to stay with you?"

"I don't want to, Aidan. I'll be okay."

"I'm making good time, Sam. And Dean's gonna be fine."

"I know."

"Did you call your dad?"

"I got voicemail."

"Are you sure you'll be okay until I get there?"

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. "I'll be okay, but I'm kind of scared. Dean doesn't get sick, man."

"I know."

"Look, I'm outside and I want to be there when the doctor is done with the exam. I'll call you when I hear something." Before hanging up, Sam gave Aidan directions to the clinic in case they were still there when he got into town.

Back in the lobby, Sam sat down and looked around. No one seemed to be paying attention to anyone else. The few other people were watching television, looking at magazines or staring into space. Sam looked toward the TV screen. He had no idea what was on, and could barely hear it, but he watched it anyway.

It was an hour later when Sam heard someone calling his name. He looked toward the voice and saw a woman in a lab coat coming toward him. She introduced herself as Dr. Hopkins, and despite his worry, Sam was amused that his brother had been examined by an attractive female doctor. She sat down in a chair across from Sam, and put her hands in her lap.

"I'm glad you brought your brother in," she said with a kind smile. "He needs to be transferred to a hospital, though. He told me you thought he might have appendicitis, and turns out you were right."

"Do I need to take him to the hospital?"

"No, we've arranged for an ambulance. It should be here any minute, and it will take him. He said your dad was out of town on business. Do you know how to get to Memorial?"

"Yeah," Sam said, trying not to show his nervousness. "Can I see my brother before the ambulance gets here?"

"Sure, I'll take you to him." She stood up and Sam followed her down the hall. "He's been given a mild pain killer and it's probably made him a little drowsy."

Dean was in a small room, lying in a hospital bed. His eyes were closed, but they opened when Sam moved closer. "Hey, Sammy." His voice was soft.

"Dean…." Sam stood next to the bed, and glanced toward the doctor. She smiled encouragingly before leaving them alone.

"Looks like you were right," Dean said with a slight smile.

"I guess so."

"Doc said it was a simple operation and I'd be out of the hospital in a day or two."

Sam didn't respond, and was surprised when Dean reached for him. He moved closer and Dean held onto his wrist. "You gonna be okay?"

Sam laughed. "You're the one having surgery, and you're worried about me?"

"I got people taking care of me."

"Aidan's on the way. Dad called him. And Dad said he'd be home soon, too. You still hurt?"

"Not so much. They gave me a shot."

Sam looked at the IV. "Looks like I was right about dehydration, too."

Sam felt Dean squeeze his wrist, and looked back to him. "How far away is Aidan?"

"Probably another couple of hours."

They looked toward the door when a nurse came in. "The ambulance is here."

Dean squeezed Sam's wrist again. "It's gonna be okay."

"Dean….you don't have to worry about me."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, right."

Sam stood in a corner of the room while his brother was loaded onto a gurney and taken out of the room. He walked with him through a hallway and out the back door. They had another quick moment before Dean was loaded into the ambulance.

-----

Once Sam got to the hospital, he had no trouble finding the information desk, but since Dean had been brought in so recently, it took the person behind the desk a few minutes to find him. "He's going into surgery very soon," she said to Sam. "He hasn't been assigned to a room yet, but go to the surgery waiting room. There's a volunteer in there, and she can give you more information."

Sam followed her directions to the surgery waiting room, then spoke to the volunteer who sat behind a small desk. She explained that once a surgery was complete, she got a phone call so she could relay the information to whoever was waiting. The doctor would then come to speak them while the patient was moved to the recovery room. She would also be informed when a room assignment was available.

"It's going to be at least a couple of hours before I know anything," she told him. "The cafeteria is still open, and the food isn't too bad. You have anyone else with you?"

"Not yet," Sam said, getting tired of the question. "He's on the way."

"Your father? Or another family member?"

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Yes. Older brother."

She smiled. "Good."

Sam nodded, then decided he'd go to the cafeteria. He wasn't really hungry, but it would be something to do other than sitting in the waiting room. He bought a soda, and was sitting at a table near a window when he got Aidan's call that he was in the hospital parking lot. A few minutes later, Aidan was sitting with him.

"I told the lady in the waiting room that you were our brother. I didn't know if the doctor would talk to anyone other than family." Sam told him.

"Have you eaten tonight?"

"I'm not hungry."

"That isn't what I asked you, Little Dude."

Sam hated that nickname, but Aidan had been using it for as long as Sam could remember.

"I'm gonna see what they have. Why don't you come with me?"

Sam knew that wasn't really a suggestion. He nodded and followed Aidan to the counter. Without asking, Aidan picked out a turkey sandwich for Sam. He chose the same for himself, and after grabbing a couple of sodas, paid for the food. They went back to the same table and Sam picked at his sandwich.

"He's gonna be okay, you know," Aidan said. "It's a routine operation."

"Routine for them. Not for Dean."

"True enough," Aidan agreed. "But he's going to sleep through it."

Sam glanced at him, a little annoyed that he wasn't more worried.

"Come on, Sam. I know you're concerned for your brother, but he's going to be fine."

"Yeah, well, I'll feel better when the operation is over and he's awake."

"Can't disagree with that," Aidan said. "I know you're worried and scared, but not eating isn't going to help Dean."

Sam nodded, but didn't pick up the sandwich.

"Humor me, Sam."

He sighed, and took a single bite.

-----

Sam and Aidan were in the waiting room when the call came that Dean was out of surgery, and a few minutes later, a doctor came to talk to them. Sam was relieved to find out the surgery went well and that no complications were expected. The doctor also said that Dean would probably be moved to his room in just over an hour, but would be groggy for the rest of the night until the anesthesia wore off.

"When can we see him?" Sam asked.

"You can see him briefly once he's in his room."

A few minutes after the doctor left, the call with Dean's room assignment came. The volunteer reiterated what the doctor had said about it being at least an hour before Dean was brought in, but said they could go to the waiting room in that area.

"You want to head on up," Aidan suggested. "I'll go outside and give your dad a call."

Sam shook his head. "I'll call him."

"Okay. I'll meet you in the waiting room." Aidan put a hand on Sam's shoulder, then pulled him into a hug. At first Sam resisted, then put his arms around his friend.

-----

Sam was surprised to have a voicemail from his father when he turned his phone on after getting to the lobby on the first floor. The message said he was leaving the job unfinished and was coming home; he expected to be there sometime Sunday morning. Sam dialed his dad's number and was relieved when he answered.

"Hey, Dad. Dean's out of surgery. The doctor said he's gonna be fine."

Sam heard his father sigh in relief. "That's great news, Sammy. Have you seen him yet?"

"He's still in recovery. The doctor said we could see him for a few minutes when he was in his room."

"We? So, Aidan is there?"

"Yes, sir. He got here a while ago."

"Good. You doin' okay, kiddo?"

Sam hesitated. "I was really worried, but I'm better now."

"I'm really proud of how you handled this, Sammy. It sounds like you did everything just right."

Sam wasn't used to compliments from his father, and it wasn't easy to respond. "Thank you."

"I know you're going to want to stay at the hospital all night, but most likely Dean will sleep. You should be in your own bed."

"I…."

"Don't give the nurses a hard time, Sammy, okay? If they tell you to leave…."

"Yes, sir," Sam said reluctantly.

-----

Aidan slouched in an overstuffed chair in the waiting room. He was tired, but knew he still had at least a few hours in front of him without sleep. No doubt Sam wouldn't want to leave the hospital, even if he couldn't stay in Dean's room with him.

Alone in the room, he let his eyes close part way. After a few minutes he heard whispering and opened his eyes, assuming other people had come in. He was still the only person in the room. Looking at his watch, he saw t was after midnight. Glancing toward the hallway, he saw nurses behind the desk, but they were too far away to hear their voices. He figured he'd drifted off and the voices had been the start of a dream.

Aidan eyed the vending machines across the room, then stood up and walked toward them. He was suspect of any coffee that came out of such an apparatus, but needed the caffeine. He'd just sat down with a cup when he heard the whispering again. This time when he looked around, he saw vague shadows near the door.

He wasn't immediately concerned; spirits were common in a hospital and he didn't sense anything particularly sinister coming from these, though that wasn't really one of his skills. He could sometimes get a vibe from them, sort of like reading body language. He sipped at his coffee and looked at his watch again, wondering how long Sam was going to take.

Aidan didn't want to stare at the shadows, but he kept an eye on them, and it seemed they were doing the same to him. He started to feel a little uncomfortable, but it wasn't much longer before Sam finally joined him.

"You get a hold of your dad?"

"Yeah, he's on his way back. Should be here Sunday morning."

"He finished the job?"

"No, do you believe it?" Sam sat across from Aidan. "Any word yet?"

"Not yet. You doin' okay?"

"I'll be better once I've seen Dean, but I'm okay." Sam looked at him. "Thanks for coming, man."

"Any time, Little Dude."

-----

Sam was anxious when more than an hour passed without Dean being brought up from recovery. Aidan spoke with one of the nurses and was assured there wasn't a problem, there were just fewer orderlies working the shift than during the day and that sometimes caused a delay in moving patients around.

He thanked her, then glanced down the hallway toward the room Dean would occupy. He saw what he thought were the same random shadows from the waiting room before. They'd disappeared soon after Sam had come in from talking to his father.

Aidan watched them for a few moments, and was sure they realized they'd been spotted. That understanding was nothing he could have explained, but he knew it to be true nonetheless. They vanished, and Aidan returned to the waiting room where Sam looked at him anxiously.

He related what the nurse had told him, and briefly considered telling him about the spirits; quickly thinking better of it. It was almost 1:30 before Dean was brought to his room. One of the nurses informed Sam and Aidan, telling them that Dean was still very drowsy and would no doubt go right to sleep after getting settled in.

"Can I stay with him until morning?" Sam asked.

The elderly nurse – at least she seemed so to Sam - smiled kindly. "He won't even know you're there, Sweetheart. It would be better for everyone if you go home, and come back when visiting hours start."

Aidan put a hand on Sam's shoulder. The younger man looked at him, and Aidan pulled him closer. "She's right, Sam. Let's go in and see him for a few minutes, then go get some sleep. We'll all be fresher in the morning, and you'll be able to do him more good then."

Aidan knew that Sam wanted to protest, but after a moment, he only nodded. They walked down the hall to Dean's room and Sam immediately moved close to the bed. Aidan glanced at the monitor and the IV bag before focusing on Dean's face. His eyes were closed.

"Dean," Sam whispered, leaning close and putting his hand on his brother's arm. "You're gonna be fine, okay? The doctor said so."

Dean's eyes fluttered open. "Sammy?" He was hoarse from the breathing tube that had been inserted during surgery and he seemed very hazy.

"Yeah, it's me. Aidan's here, too."

"Hey, Slick." Aidan moved to Sam's side.

"Hey," Dean glanced around the room. "What happened?"

"You needed your appendix out," Sam explained. "Do you remember being sick?"

Dean looked thoughtful. "Oh. Yeah."

"It's really late," Sam said. "The nurse doesn't want us to stay. She says you'll sleep and we can come back in the morning."

"Okay." Dean's eyes closed.

"We'll be back as soon as visiting hours start, okay Dean?" Sam said, sounding a little uneasy.

"You should get some sleep," Dean said quietly. "Take care of my car."

Aidan saw Sam's small smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah."

Aidan patted Dean's leg. "Me, too."

Aidan gave Sam a few more minutes, then put his arm around his shoulders. "Come on."

He hesitated, but a moment later Sam left the room without protest. Aidan didn't notice the shadows hovering down the hall.

"Why don't you let me drive us to your place?" Aidan suggested when they were in the elevator. He saw Sam's discomfort. "We can take the Impala if you'd feel better."

"Yeah, okay." Sam nodded. "I can drive, though."


	2. Chapter 2

**Against the Branding**

**Chapter 2**

Sam was already sitting at the kitchen table when Aidan walked in on Saturday morning. He'd heard the boy moving around a few times after they got to the house, and knew he hadn't gotten much sleep.

"How ya doin'?" Aidan asked as he started a pot of coffee.

"All right."

"You didn't sleep much."

Sam rubbed his face. "Not so much."

"Visiting hours don't start until 9, ya know."

"Maybe they'll let us in early," Sam said hopefully.

Aidan looked at the phone when it started to ring. "Maybe."

Sam walked across the room and grabbed the receiver. Aidan could tell that Sam was talking to his father, so he left the kitchen to give him some privacy. Sam walked into the living room a few minutes later and held out the phone. "Dad wants to talk to you."

"Thanks." Aidan took the phone. "John?"

"_Hey, kid. Sounds like Sam is anxious to get to the hospital."_

"Yeah, but he's doing okay. John, you'd be really proud of the way he took care of Dean. We talked about it last night. He did everything right."

"_I am proud of him. I even told him so."_

Aidan couldn't help but be surprised, but he didn't want to end up unintentionally insulting John, so he changed the subject. "Are you still on track to be here tomorrow?"

"_Yeah. Do you have any idea how long Dean will be in the hospital?"_

"The doctor said it should just be a day or two, but that was right after surgery. We'll probably find out more today."

"_Well, keep me informed. Does he have a phone in his room, or can he use a cell?"_

"No cell, but I'll see if I can arrange a phone."

"_Thanks, Aidan."_

"Anything I can do, John. You know that."

"_Yeah, I know. And that goes both ways."_

"Look, things are under control, so don't kill yourself to get here. I'll call you when we know more."

"_Okay, thanks. Hey, Aidan?"_

"Yeah?"

"_Sammy….he usually wears his heart on his sleeve, ya know? He doesn't hide his emotions, but he's never seen Dean sick. At least not like this."_

"John, it's under control, okay? Don't worry." Aidan laughed, knowing nothing would stop the father from worrying. "Well, don't worry too much."

-----

Sam and Aidan left for the hospital soon after John's call. Sam was patient long enough for Aidan to have some coffee and to take a shower before he made it known he was ready to leave. Aidan stopped at the nurses' station while Sam continued down the hall to Dean's room. Sam was relieved to see Dean sitting up, looking much better than he had before the surgery.

"Hey, Dean!"

Dean looked away from the television mounted in a corner of the room and smiled at his brother. "It's about time."

"Visiting hours still don't start for half an hour," Sam shrugged. "You feeling okay?"

"Better," Dean said, turning down the volume and tossing the remote control aside. "You here alone?"

"Aidan's talking to a nurse. Dad's on his way home." Dean nodded as Sam carefully settled on the edge of the bed. "Have you seen the doctor today?"

"Yeah. He said he'll probably spring me tomorrow. He started me on clear liquids, and so far so good. I might get real food for lunch."

"That's good. Do you have to stay in bed?"

"For a little longer."

"I brought you some stuff," Sam gestured toward the duffle bag he'd dropped on the floor near the bed. "Some clothes for when you can leave, a deck of cards, and some of your car magazines."

"Thanks. And that reminds me, I should call Jackson today. He didn't want me back at work until Monday, but Doc said I needed to stay out for at least the week."

"You don't look sick. Get out of bed and get to work." Aidan walked further into the room, and moved a chair closer to the bed.

Dean looked at him and smiled. "I wish."

"I stopped at the nurses' station and asked about getting a phone for you – your dad wants to talk to you. She said it won't take long to get it brought in."

"Why does Dad want to talk to me?" Dean was worried.

"Uh, cuz you had surgery and he's worried about you?" Aidan's tone was light. "Don't sweat it. How was your night?"

"I woke up a few times. I had some weird dreams."

"What kind of weird dreams?" Aidan asked.

"I don't really remember them, but a couple times I woke up thinking there was someone in here watching me. Whatever the dreams were, I'm sure they were because of the anesthesia."

"Yeah," Aidan didn't sound convinced.

Dean looked at him curiously, thinking that Aidan seemed worried about something more than just his health. He hadn't decided if he wanted to bring it up in front of Sam, whatever it was, and was still considering it when someone walked in with a desk phone.

"I just need to plug this in," the man said and pushed the wheeled tray aside. He made sure the phone was working, then handed a card to Dean. "This is the phone number. Oh, and only local calls out."

Dean nodded. "Thanks." Once they were alone again, Dean glanced at Aidan. "Dad's number isn't local."

"That's okay," Sam piped up. "I'll call him from downstairs and give him the number. He can call you."

"Thanks, Sammy."

Sam took the card from him and headed out. Dean waited a few moments to give Sam time to get down the hall before he looked at Aidan. "So, what are you worried about?"

"What do you mean?" Aidan asked with an innocence that Dean didn't believe.

"I can see it on your face."

"You just had surgery, Slick. I'm worried about you."

"I don't buy it. Why'd you ask what I dreamt about?"

Aidan shrugged. "Just curious."

Dean was skeptical, but it was becoming clear that Aidan wasn't going to admit anything and he didn't have the energy to argue. He changed the subject. "Sammy do okay last night?"

"He's not five, Dean."

"Yeah, I know, but…."

"He took really good care of you, you know."

"Yeah, he did," Dean said quietly, looking down.

Aidan rested a leg on the side of Dean's bed. "He was okay. He didn't sleep a lot, but that's understandable. Oh, and your car is fine, too."

Dean smirked, knowing Aidan was teasing him. "Sammy didn't let you drive it, did he?"

"Of course not." Aidan smiled. "You're looking tired, there, Slick."

Dean nodded. "Little bit."

"Look, Sam's gonna want to stay with you today, but you need to get rest, too."

"Him being here won't be a problem," Dean said just before the telephone began to ring.

Aidan stood up. "That's probably your dad. I'll give you some privacy."

-----

Aidan walked out into the hall and looked around. At the far end, he saw a few vague shadows, though closer to Dean's room what he saw was more developed. He looked directly at the spirits, but they quickly disappeared, leaving Aidan with apprehension. He glanced into Dean's room, then went to the elevator to wait for Sam.

He didn't want to tell the boy what he'd seen or what he now felt because Sam would only worry. Aidan wasn't overly concerned; he still didn't think that Dean was in any kind of danger. Though hospitals were usually full of spirits they were, for the most part, no threat to anyone. But there was something about these that Aidan didn't trust.

"Did Dad call?" Sam asked when he walked out of the elevator.

"Yeah, Dean's on the phone with him now," Aidan tried not to sound distracted.

"He's making good time, and said he might be home early tomorrow morning."

"In other words," Aidan said with a smile. "He's driving like a bat out of Hell."

"Like always," Sam grinned. He looked toward Dean's room.

"Go ahead," Aidan told him. "I'll give you guys some time alone. Just make sure to let him get some rest, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Aidan watched Sam walk away, confident that the boy didn't suspect anything. He hesitated for a few moments before taking the elevator to the first floor. His cell phone was out of his pocket before the doors opened.

-----

Dean was asleep before too long, but Sam stayed by his side. He had brought his history book, and was sitting in a chair across the room when he heard Dean mutter. He looked at his brother, but Dean settled back into silence. A few minutes later he shifted; Sam put the book aside then moved closer to the bed. Dean jerked awake, but Sam quickly calmed him when he seemed not to know where he was.

"Sorry," Dean said quietly, running a hand over his face.

"You want some water? The nurse brought some juice in, too."

"Water. Thanks."

Sam poured water into a plastic cup, holding out to Dean as he sat on the side of the bed. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I guess so," Dean said after a long sip of water. "I don't really remember."

"How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," Dean assured him. "Where's Aidan?"

"He went downstairs a while ago. I figured he'd be back by now."

-----

Aidan had spent a several minutes on the phone with Jim Murphy and was now sitting on a bench in the hospital lobby. He was lost in thought, and didn't realize he'd been gone from Dean's room for quite some time.

Even though Aidan had grown up living in a children's home, he thought of Jim as a father. Jim had recognized Aidan's ability, and found people within the Hunter world that could help him develop it. Even though Jim tried not to play favorites among the kids in the orphanage, he spent time alone with Aidan, and once he was of age, Jim had helped him get into and pay for art school.

Jim was always the first person Aidan thought of when he needed advice, both personally and as a hunter. After filling Jim in on Dean's health situation, Aidan explained what he'd been seeing and feeling around the hospital. As it always did, Jim's calm tone helped Aidan focus his thoughts, and when the call ended, he felt much better.

There were still things to consider, though. It was possible that Dean had really seen or felt something in the house, and it had followed him to the hospital. It wasn't the most likely scenario, but most hunters agreed that nothing was impossible. Either way, Aidan thought that Dean may need protection from the spirits that were hanging around him.

Jim had suggested that they knew Aidan could see them, and might simply want his help. Aidan didn't think that was the case since they'd not approached him. He was sure they'd even become aggravated realizing he knew they were there. He could tell that bit of news bothered Jim, but he told Aidan that he believed it unlikely they actually meant to cause Dean harm.

After a few more minutes, Aidan glanced at his watch. He'd been away from the Winchesters for almost two hours, but he doubted the boys even noticed. He decided to give them a little more time, and dialed John's cell phone number.

Aidan didn't mention his concerns or his phone call to Jim. Once the call had ended, Aidan made his way back upstairs. He was more relieved than he wanted to be to find the hallway outside Dean's room free of shadows. Standing just outside the door, he watched Sam and Dean playing a card game for a few minutes before Sam noticed him.

"You were gone for a while," Sam said as Aidan joined them.

"Yeah, were you checking out the nurses?" Dean asked with a grin.

"Nah, I was looking at the chick doctors. Aim high." Aidan sat down. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

"Yes," Sam answered, sounding defensive. "He just woke up."

"Settle down, there, Little Dude," Aidan said with a laugh. "I was just asking a question."

The brothers went back to the card game after a few moments. Aidan slumped in the chair with his feet on the metal frame of Dean's bed. The doctor came in as lunch was being served to the other patients. After a brief examination told Dean he wanted him to stick with liquids for a while longer but that he could get out of bed to go for short walks.

The doctor had just left them alone when an orderly came in with a tray. He set it on the wheeled tray, and lifted the lid. "Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid. Just some broth and juice. Probably better than the ice chips, though. Bon appetite!"

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said, eyeing the tray suspiciously.

The orderly smiled. "Sorry."

While Dean busied himself with the broth, Sam put the cards away. Aidan noticed shadows near the window across the room, but he tried hard not to react. He didn't want to worry the boys or annoy the spirits. He was sure they weren't random visitors; they were the same ones as before.

-----

The rest of the day was fairly quiet. Dean went for a few short walks in between long naps. During one of them, Aidan managed to get Sam out of the room long enough for him to eat. Dean's boss, Jackson, came to visit after getting the message Dean had left for him. He didn't stay very long, but insisted that Dean follow the doctor's orders and not come back to work until he'd been cleared.

Dean was allowed to eat solid, though bland, food for dinner. The doctor said if he suffered no ill-effects overnight, he would sign release papers the next day. When John called, he was glad to hear that Dean would most likely be home before he got back into town.

Aidan didn't see any more shadows hovering around Dean, and didn't feel any trepidation leaving him alone overnight. Sam didn't like the idea of Dean spending another night in the hospital, and it took Dean to convince him to go home when visiting hours were over.

Once he was alone in his room, Dean flipped through channels on the television, but he didn't find anything he was interested in watching. He paged through one of the magazines Sam had brought him, but that didn't keep his attention, either. One of the nurses came in to check on him, and spent a few minutes talking to him, but once she was gone, Dean felt uneasy.

He got out of bed, happy not to have to deal with the IV any more, and walked down the hall. He was moving easier and with less pain than before. He didn't think it would take very long for him to recover completely, but he knew Sam wouldn't let him do anything too soon.

There weren't any restrictions on where he could go, so after Dean had wandered the floor without finding anything interesting, he took the elevator to the lobby. He was happy not to have to wear a hospital gown, but would be glad when he could wear his old jeans again.

Dean sat in a chair near a big window and looked around. He didn't know why he was feeling antsy, other than he couldn't leave. He didn't even know where he'd go if he could. Most nights he was home with Sam. Sometimes he'd go to a bar for a few games of pool or to pick up a girl or two, but his life was pretty dull when he wasn't hunting.

Once the lobby stopped being interesting, Dean made his way back to his room. He leaned against the wall of the elevator and realized he was tired. He thought maybe he could just go to sleep, and when he woke up he'd be that much closer to being released.

Dean stepped onto his floor when the elevator doors opened and glanced around, suddenly nervous. He had grown up trusting his instincts, but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. There were a couple nurses behind the desk, and another one further down the hall. Some of the other patients were milling around, but everything seemed fine.

Dean sighed and made his way back to his room. He crawled into bed and turned on the television, mostly for the noise. He looked at the telephone and thought about calling home, but knew he'd only worry Sam. Settling back against the pillows, Dean wished his dad would call.

-----

Dean realized he was awake, but didn't remember falling asleep. One of the nurses must have turned off the television; the remote control was on the rolling tray near the bed. He didn't feel like he was alone, and almost expected to see Sam sitting in the chair across the room.

He tossed the sheet aside and got out of bed. The light in his room was off, but the hallway was still bright. He walked to the door and looked up and down the hall, but the only people he saw were the nurses at the desk. They didn't notice him, and he made his way to the small bathroom.

Dean didn't think he'd had a dream, but something didn't seem right. He stared at his reflection for a few moments as the water ran into the sink, then bent over and splashed his face. He didn't bother to dry off before going back to his bed. He saw that it was almost midnight, and really wished he knew what had awakened him.

He picked up the portable cassette player Sam had brought for him and slipped the headphones over his ears. A few minutes later he was asleep, but not peacefully.

-----

Aidan sat up in bed, startled by something. The streetlight was penetrating the thin curtains that weren't even closed all the way, and he didn't see anything in the bedroom that didn't belong there. He lay very still, listening carefully, but he heard nothing unusual.

The bedside clock read just after midnight, and Aidan decided to have a look around the house. Sam had told him that Dean insisted he salt the doors and windows, but at the time, Aidan had agreed with Sam that Dean's concern was due to the fever. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure about that.

Aidan took the rifle from John's bedside and made his way across the hall. He saw that Sam was still sleeping, and he continued through the small house. Even though he moved slowly, it didn't take long to check out every room. Nothing seemed out of place, and he didn't get even a glimpse of anything that shouldn't be there.

He propped the gun next to the refrigerator and poured a glass of water. After a few minutes, he made his way back to the bedroom, pausing again to check on Sam. It took a couple hours for Aidan to get back to sleep, and it didn't last for long. He was sitting on the couch with at least his third cup of coffee when Sam got up on Sunday morning.

"You're up early," Sam commented as he came into the living room, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, I couldn't get to sleep last night, I guess."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not. Just one of those nights."

Sam looked suspicious, but he didn't question Aidan any further. He went into the kitchen and came back a few moments later with a glass of orange juice.

"The fridge is almost empty," he commented sitting in his dad's chair. "Dean will probably have dietary restrictions, so I'll go to the store after we have his release papers."

Aidan looked at him. "Dietary restrictions?"

"What?" Sam asked innocently. "I know words."

Aidan smiled. "That you do. Hey, I feel like pancakes. Wanna stop for breakfast before we hit the hospital?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

-----

Sam was immediately worried when he saw Dean. He was pale and looked tired, but Sam didn't want to overreact. He sat on the edge of the bed. "Hey."

"Hey." He sounded tired, too.

"What's going on, Slick?" Aidan asked, obviously as concerned as Sam.

"I didn't sleep too good last night."

"How come?" Sam asked.

Dean glanced at his brother. "I….I don't know, really. I guess I just couldn't relax."

Sam was skeptical. "Is there something going on you two haven't told me about?"

The older men exchanged a look.

"No," Dean said. "Why?"

"Aidan didn't sleep, either."

"There's nothing going on," Dean insisted. "Except Doc isn't releasing me this morning."

"Why not?"

"Because my blood pressure is up and he's a little worried about it. It's probably just cuz I couldn't sleep last night. He wants me to take it easy today, and he'll reevaluate this afternoon. I got to have almost real food for breakfast, though."

"Almost real?" Aidan laughed.

"Well, you know, it's hospital food. I feel okay, just tired."

"Go to sleep, then," Sam said. "We'll leave you alone."

"No," Dean said. He sounded more forceful than Sam would have expected. "I mean, you don't have to go. I didn't have any trouble falling asleep with you here yesterday."

"Are you sure there's nothing going on?" Sam asked, looking at his brother's face. Dean was good at keeping things from him, but Sam could tell when he was outright lying.

"Everything is okay," Dean said.

Sam didn't believe him, but before he could decide what to do about it, the telephone rang. Aidan was closest to it, so he picked it up. After a brief conversation with John, he hung up.

"Your dad is just a few miles outside of town," Aidan said. "He's gonna run by the house to clean up and then will be here. It shouldn't be too long."

Sam watched as Dean settled back into the pillows, almost like he was relieved.

-----

When John Winchester walked into the hospital room later, the whole atmosphere changed. Sam was happier to see him than he expected to be – it had been a huge help to have Aidan around, and his relationship with his father wasn't always the best, but he had to admit to feeling safer when his dad was home. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in Dean, far from it, but with their dad around, he felt like Dean was taken care of, too.

Sam moved out of the way, and saw how Dean looked at their dad when he sat on the edge of the bed. There was never any doubt that the man was Dean's hero, but the expression on his face….Sam found unexpected tears in his eyes.

"Dad, you want some coffee?" Sam asked, after making sure he was in control of his emotions.

"Thanks, Sammy, yeah."

Surprised by the genuine smile on his father's face, Sam hesitated. "Uh, I'll go get it from the cafeteria. It's better than from the machine."

"I'll go with you," Aidan said.

Once they were gone, John put a hand on his older son's wrist. "You look like you had a rough night."

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir. I had a hard time sleeping."

"Hospitals have that effect on people."

"Yes, sir."

John looked at him. "Or was it something else?"

Dean had never been able to lie to his father; not that there had ever been any reason to. He always strived to be the son his dad wanted, and almost never had any reason not to be completely truthful with him. His dad also had a way of reading him that no one else did. Sam was close, but he lacked their father's life experience.

"I just wanna go home," Dean said quietly. "Hospitals make me nervous."

"I talked to a nurse before coming in," John began. "You're too young to be so nervous if affects your blood pressure." His tone was a lot more gentle than Dean was used to, and his eyes were kind. This was the father Dean missed most often. "What's wrong, Son?"

Dean glanced away for a moment. "It felt like there was something in here with me. I couldn't relax….I don't know, it was probably the surgery."

John nodded. "Tell me more."

Dean was surprised. "Really?"

"Of course."

"It was weird. It kind of started at home."

"What do you mean, at home?"

"It was when I was sick. I had a fever and all, but I could have sworn there was something in the house. I even told Sammy to salt the doors and windows."

"Yeah, I noticed the salt when I was at the house. Did Sammy see anything?"

"I don't think so."

"Did you see anything last night?"

"No, sir. I just felt it. It wasn't like anything I've ever felt before outside a hunt when I _knew_ there was something around.'

"Did you tell Aidan?"

Dean shook his head. "He and Sammy just got here, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't know if I would have said anything, anyway."

John nodded knowingly. "I guess if Aidan had seen anything around, he woulda said something."

"About what?" Aidan asked as he walked back into the room with Sam.

The boy handed the cup of coffee to his dad, and John muttered a thanks. "Aidan, you seen anything around the hospital?"

"Anything like what?"

John looked at him, anger brewing. "You have, haven't you?"

"It's a hospital. There's always stuff around a hospital. Why?" He looked at Dean. "Did you see something?"

"No, but…."

John sighed loudly. "I think it's time for a conversation. Aidan? You start."

John tried to keep his emotions in control while Aidan described the shadows he'd seen around the hospital. He kept telling himself that there had been no reason for Aidan to believe Dean was in any danger, but considering what they knew John thought Aidan should have been more careful. He was almost as mad at Dean for not being more open about what he'd been experiencing. It didn't occur to John that both Aidan and Dean were following an example he had set himself.

Dean's story took less time to tell, but when he was done, John saw that he wasn't alone in his annoyance.

"You two suck," Sam complained. He took a few steps away from the bed and stood behind John.

"Look, I'm sorry," Aidan said. "I really didn't think anything of what I saw. There are _always_ spirits in hospitals. I was uneasy, but nothing happened to Dean."

"What do you mean?" Sam demanded. "He was probably harassed all night long. He was supposed to be released this morning, but the doctor is worried about his freakin' blood pressure. He's 20 freakin' years old, and his doctor is worried about his _blood pressure_?"

"Okay, that's enough," John said.

"And what about this morning at the house?" Sam continued. "You didn't sleep last night, either, Aidan. How come? And why did you have Dad's gun in the kitchen?"

John turned to Aidan quickly. "What?"

"I…." Aidan looked at Sam. "Look, something woke me up last night. I took the gun with me while I looked around, but I didn't see anything."

"Sam," John began with a glance toward Dean. "Enough."

"But, Dad…."

John looked at Sam over his shoulder and, for a change, Sam backed off. It seemed lately he was doing that less often, and John was grateful for the cooperation. Dean didn't need the people around him fighting and he suspected Sam realized that.

"Dean," John began calmly. "You said you saw something at the house."

"Yeah, but the fever –"

"I know, but tell me again. What did you see?"

"Nothing, really. I thought I saw something – a ghost, maybe – in a corner of the bedroom."

"Why would there be a ghost in your house?" Aidan asked. "I'm sure you checked it out when you moved in."

"We did," John confirmed.

"And we drew the protective symbols on the walls," Dean added. "I'm sure it was just the fever."

"What about last night?" Sam asked. "That wasn't caused by a fever."

"I also didn't really see anything," Dean pointed out.

"You shoulda called us," Sam said.

"Sammy…."

"Aidan, can you go back to the house and look around?" John asked, hoping to avoid an argument between the boys.

"Of course, but I haven't seen anything since I've been there."

"Yeah, but now you'll be more focused. Check the symbols for me, too?"

Aidan nodded. "Sure. I'll be back in a while – or call me if Dean gets released."

"Will do."

John saw the meaningful look that passed between his son and Aidan before Aidan walked out of the room. He patted Dean's leg. "How about you and your brother find something on TV, and you fall asleep watching it?"

"Are you leaving?"

"No, but that recliner over there is looking pretty good."

Dean had a concerned expression on his face. "You drove all night, didn't you?"

"I stopped for a couple of hours."

"Thanks for coming home, Dad."

John smiled and patted his leg again. He moved to the large chair in a corner of the room while Sam settled on the bed next to his brother. It wasn't long before father and older son were dozing.

-----

Aidan looked through the Winchester house carefully, but didn't see anything suspicious. He knew he'd forgotten the gun in the kitchen, but hadn't realized Sam had seen it. He'd already kicked himself a few times for that while driving from the hospital.

Like most hunters, Aidan didn't believe in coincidence. If it seemed like you were being stalked by a ghost, chances are, you were. Ghosts tended not to travel very far, though. They were generally tied to a place or an object, though. Sometimes they could be tied to a person, though that happened less often.

It just didn't make sense that a ghost could have gotten into the Winchesters' house – no one was more careful about that kind of thing than John Winchester. From the outside it might look like he left his sons to their own devices too often starting when they were too young, but he completely investigated a place before moving his kids in. He gave them the training they'd need to recognize, and defend themselves against, all kinds of creatures.

And as he'd thought, and said, more times than he could count over the last couple of days, hospitals were full of spirits. They generally didn't huddle near a particular patient, though; at least not in Aidan's experience. Especially not when that person was a hunter who might have seen a ghost in his house.

Aidan rubbed his temples; the headache that had started earlier was growing. Nothing about this made sense, and that bothered Aidan more than anything else.

With the help of fellow-hunter Bobby Singer, John had developed a general, but fairly powerful, protection scheme for places the family would be more than a couple of nights. They couldn't just throw any symbol on a wall and have it be beneficial. Symbols had to be precise and sometimes needed a ceremony to work. It wasn't something John, or any hunter, took lightly.

Aidan knew where to find the symbols – they'd be on the outside of the house as close to the ground as possible, drawn in paint mixed with a small amount of holy water. They worked best on walls facing directly north, south, east, and west, but that wasn't always possible.

"Aw, crap," Aidan said to himself when he finished searching the final wall. "Sonofabitch."

-----

John listened to what Aidan told him, wishing he wasn't in Dean's hospital room. He wanted to pace erratically and when the conversation ended, he wanted to punch a wall. But when he heard the frightened tone to Sam's voice and he saw the expressions on both his sons' faces….John immediately calmed and went into protective mode.

"What did Aidan find?" Sam asked again, his voice full of fear.

"The symbol on the wall in the back yard is gone."

"Gone?"

"Aidan said that with a quick glance, it looks like it was never even there. He had to look really closely to find the painted over area." John rubbed his stubbled chin. "I don't think a spirit could have done that."

"A human, then?" Dean asked. He still looked anxious, but his voice was steady. "Who would do that? Who would even know it had been there?"

John shook his head. "I don't know. You two have been around the town more than I have. Any ideas?"

The brothers looked at one another, then back to their father. They shook their heads.

"Well, think about it," he said, then looked more closely at Dean. His color was better than before, but he still didn't look like he felt well. "How you doin', Son?"

"I'm all right. Not great, but okay. I really want to get out of here."

"Is tomorrow morning soon enough?"

John turned around at the sound of the voice and saw a man in a labcoat standing in the doorway. Dean introduced his father to the doctor who had been caring for him since being admitted, and the two men shook hands.

"I was just looking at your chart," the doctor said to Dean. "It's been a few hours since I saw you, and your blood pressure is back to normal and has been relatively consistent. Whatever was going on overnight and this morning was probably more related to being in the hospital than anything else. As I explained, that can happen sometimes, but I'd rather keep you until tomorrow morning just to make sure."

"Do I have a choice?" Dean asked.

"Yes, but I recommend the extra caution."

"That's probably a good idea, Dean," John said. He had no intention of leaving him alone overnight, though.

Dean sighed. "All right."

"While I'm here, let me just check you out a little bit," the doctor said.

John and Sam stepped out into the hallway to give them some privacy. John saw Sam's troubled expression and wanted to pull the boy into a hug, but considering how Sam had been asserting his independence lately, he thought better of it.

"What is it, Sammy?"

He shrugged. "This whole thing. Aidan's sure about what he saw – or didn't see - at the house?"

"He said he was. He knows what to look for and where to find it. And he found the spot that had been painted over."

"How could we find out if there are other hunters around town?"

John's brow furrowed. "You think a hunter would have done it?"

Sam shrugged again. "I don't know. Who else would know about the symbols?"

"Anyone with an interest in the subject," John mused. "And I know there are plenty of people out there that don't like me, but a hunter sabotaging a protection symbol? I don't know."

"You've always said that anything is possible. And Dean says people are crazy."

John smiled. "That's what your brother says?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, well, he might just be right about that. It probably was a person, but not necessarily a hunter. And there's no way to find out what hunters might be around, but I'll make a few phone calls to people I trust. You gonna stay here with Dean?"

"Yeah."

John laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, okay? And keep trying to think about who might have been to the house. I'll just be downstairs."

Sam nodded. John had only gotten a few steps away when he heard Sam call him. He turned around and Sam moved toward him, surprising him with a hug. John put his arms around his son quietly. "I'm glad you're here, Dad."

John gently kissed the top of Sam's head. "Me, too, Sammy." He waited to move until Sam pulled away. It was surreal to see him immediately transform back into the mature young man that he usually was. John smiled and headed toward the elevator wondering where his little boy had gone.

-----

"This sucks," Dean complained once the doctor was gone and Sam had rejoined him.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. But better to be sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," he said firmly.

"You wanna play some cards?"

"Nah."

"Watch TV?"

Dean shrugged.

"You wanna take a walk? Dad is downstairs making phone calls."

"Better leave him alone," Dean said. He looked at his brother closely. "You okay?"

Sam seemed surprised. "What? I'm not being held hostage in the hospital."

Dean smiled at him. "Cute. I mean with what Aidan found at the house and all."

"Can't say it isn't weird. You know, anyone could have done it."

"Not anyone," Dean countered. "It would have to be someone who knew they were there. We used almost the same color paint as the house."

"Yeah," Sam said thoughtfully. "Why would someone do it, though? Dad thinks it could be someone who didn't like him."

"Yeah, well, Dad'll find out who did it and then the guy really won't like him." Dean saw the worried expression on Sam's face, and forced himself to smile. He playfully swatted Sam's leg. "It's gonna be okay. Let's go for a walk."

-----

After another conversation with John, Aidan reconstructed the protection symbol on the house. He hadn't liked hearing that the doctor wanted to keep Dean in the hospital for another night, but he agreed with John that it was better to make sure he was well on the road to recovery before sending him home. He also agreed that it was a good idea not to leave Dean alone.

Aidan wanted to give the Winchesters time alone, plus he had work he had to start. He somehow managed to keep his mind on the task at hand for a few hours. After he put his supplies away, Aidan got some things together to take to the hospital. On his way, he stopped at a nursery and bought a small selection of plants that could provide protection without causing suspicion.

"What's in the duffle bag?" John asked him.

"Magazines, change of clothes, shotgun, extra salt rounds."

"A shotgun?" Dean asked. "Are you serious?"

Aidan looked at him and shrugged.

"Thanks, Aidan," John said. He nodded toward the plants. "And for those."

"No problem. Why don't you and Sam get some dinner while I'm here?"

"I don't need a babysitter," Dean complained.

"No, but there's nothing wrong with an extra set of eyes," John told him. "How about it, Sammy? Wanna have dinner with your old man?"

Aidan noticed the small nod from Dean before Sam agreed.

-----

John didn't have the easiest time convincing Sam to go home with Aidan. He wanted to just issue an order and be done with it, but he knew that wouldn't work any better than reasoning with him. John was also aware that it could actually backfire. He was surprised that it even took Dean several minutes to entice Sam to go.

"You know you don't have to stay," Dean said once they were alone.

"I know you can handle yourself," John said with pride. "But I want you to be able to relax tonight, so the doctor has no problem releasing you tomorrow. You're still looking kind of pale, there, kid."

"I'm okay." Dean assured him. "I don't see why I couldn't just leave today. Why didn't you want me to sign myself out?"

John shrugged. "You had surgery, Dean. And the doctor didn't think you were well enough to leave quite yet. If there is something going on, and we've got a hunter out there sabotaging us, we're all going to need to be at our best to figure it out."

"Yes, sir," Dean said, sounding unconvinced. He looked at his father. "Who did you call before?"

John considered waving off the question, but instead he stretched out as best he could in the chair. "Bobby Singer, for one. He generally has a pretty good handle on what's going on and where hunters might be."

Dean laughed. "You two are talking?"

"Oh, we always talk," John said with a wink. His relationship with the demon expert was tumultuous at best, and everyone knew it. But the two men were still friends and always there when the other needed something. "I also talked to Jim. Neither one of them knew anything helpful, but are putting out feelers. If anyone can find something out, it's those two, but I've got some other irons in the fire."

"Maybe it's someone that Sam or I somehow pissed off," Dean suggested. "You weren't even home."

"Whose bad side could either of you gotten on?" John asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just sayin'."

"I suppose it's something to consider," John said. "And if this really does turn out to be a hunter…."

John let himself get lost in his anger for a moment, but quickly turned his attention back to Dean. His older son had always easily accepted responsibility and was as capable of some hunters twice his age, but he lying in the hospital bed, Dean looked more like the young man he really was. John was struck by that, since he normally saw Dean as more of an equal.

John knew he'd not been the best father to Dean, but hoped that the choices he'd made had resulted in keeping him and his brother safer than they would have been otherwise. He'd made mistakes, but what parent didn't? And most parents didn't have to worry about supernatural creatures coming after their children.

Feeling tears sting his eyes, John looked away from his boy. Sometimes he missed Mary more than others, and this was one of those times. When he'd heard that Dean was undergoing surgery, he'd wanted his wife to hold onto. He'd desperately wanted her to comfort him, but since that couldn't happen, John had pushed himself to get to his family in as few hours as possible.

John suspected the nurses thought him staying with Dean wasn't necessary, but none of them refused him or even tried to talk him out of it. And he was happy to wake up the next morning after a quiet night.

-----

Sam called his brother's room with every intention of spending the day with him, but Dean convinced him to go to school. He told Sam that the doctor had already been by to examine him, and that he'd be home in a few hours.

"You have money for lunch?' Aidan asked as he pulled up to the curb outside the school.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Do you need a ride home this afternoon?"

"I'm supposed to study with the guys for a while after class, but I think I'm going to blow it off and study at home."

"Dean's fine, you know."

Sam looked at him. "I know, but…."

"Why don't you study like you had planned?" Aidan suggested. "Dean knows how important school is to you, and he wouldn't want you to put it on the back burner for him. You'll probably get more done in a couple hours here than you would at home – and Dean's fine."

Sam looked uncertain, but he nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I'll call though, okay?"

Aidan smiled at him. "Sure."

Sam got out of the car and made his way toward the building. Aidan watched as he interacted with a few other teenagers before he slowly pulled away from the curb.


	3. Chapter 3

**Against the Branding**

**Chapter 3**

Sam walked into the library after his last class ended and headed toward the table he and his friends generally used for their after-school studying sessions. As he set his backpack down, he saw Tim leaning against a bookshelf toward the back of the room, intently looking at the book in his hands.

The school library didn't have a very extensive occult selection, and Sam knew that most of it was pulp fiction, or what he considered to be complete crap. Normally it wouldn't strike him as odd that someone, even one of his friends, was reading something from that section, but Sam wasn't taking anything for granted after what happened at his house.

He thought about approaching Tim, but decided against it. Instead, he moved to an area where he could watch Tim without being seen. After a few moments, Tim replaced the book he'd been reading and pulled another from the shelf. Sam watched as Tim read a few pages, then he backed further away when Tim looked up. Sam glanced toward the door and, seeing their friends coming into the library, he went back to the table. When Tim joined them a few moments later, he seemed like he always did.

Sam had a hard time keeping his mind on the subject they were studying, but he had the convenient excuse of being worried about his brother. Rick pushed his textbook aside after Sam uncharacteristically answered a third question wrong in a row.

"This isn't like you, man," he said with a smile. "You're usually Brainiac."

"Yeah, sorry," Sam said, trying not to stare at Tim. "I guess I'm not really into this right now. I think I'll just take off. My brother got out of the hospital today."

"How's he doing?" Rick asked. "He must be okay if he got out."

"He still has recovering to do," Sam said as he stuffed books into his backpack. "But he's doing okay. Our dad got home yesterday, too."

"He was gone for a while," Rick commented.

"Yeah. He goes off on business a lot, but he came home cuz Dean was sick."

"I guess he'll be home for a while then?"

Sam glanced at Rick curiously. "I suppose so."

"Look," Tim interrupted. "Why don't we all pack it in for now? The test isn't until Friday. We can try this again tomorrow or Wednesday."

"I vote for Wednesday," Andy said. "I have an orthodontist appointment tomorrow afternoon."

"Wednesday it is, then," Rick said. "That okay with you, Sam?"

"Sure."

They boys all walked out of the library together, but Tim lived in a different direction and he took off alone. Andy, Rick and Sam continued on together.

"What do you guys know about Tim?" he asked, hoping he sounded nonchalant.

"What do you mean?" Andy asked.

"He just seems to keep to himself a lot. And we almost never go to his house."

"He and his mom moved here just a few weeks before you did," Andy told him. "He's never talked about his dad."

Sam looked at him. "I didn't know that. I thought he grew up here."

Andy shook his head. "Nope. We don't know him very well."

Sam was quiet for a few moments as he thought about what this new information could mean. "Any idea where he moved from?"

"Somewhere in Texas, I think," Andy said. "You remember, Rick?"

"Nah."

"Where does she work?"

"What's with all the questions, Sam" Rick asked.

"Just curious." Sam hoped he sounded innocent. He went back to his thoughts.

-----

The Impala was the only vehicle parked in front of the house when Sam got home. Inside, Sam found Dean dozing on the couch with the television on. Mildly annoyed that his brother, fresh out of the hospital was left alone, Sam went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. He tried not to make any noise, but Dean woke up when he walked back into the living room.

"What time is it?" Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Just after 3:30. Where is everyone?"

"Aidan went somewhere to work; I don't know where. Dad's at the store. Are you home late?" Dean asked as he stood up.

"I stayed to study with the guys for a little while," Sam sat down next to him. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You know, not 100%, but okay."

Sam looked at Dean closely. Seeing that his color was better and that he was looking more like himself, Sam felt relief. "I'm glad you're home."

"Thanks, me too." Dean hesitated. "Hey, uh, I don't think I thanked you."

"You don't have to thank me," Sam said, surprised.

"Yeah, I do. Thanks, man."

Sam nodded. "You're welcome."

They sat in a companionable silence for several minutes, then Sam glanced at his brother almost nervously. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I saw something at school. Found something out, too."

"What?" Dean put his feet on the coffee table.

"One of the guys, Tim, was looking at books in the lame occult section of the library. And I found out that he and his mom have only lived here a few weeks longer than us."

"The school library has an occult section?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. Sometimes his brother's focus was not what he expected it to be. "Yeah, but it's pretty slim. Point is, Tim was looking at occult books."

"So?"

"Maybe he was doing research – could be he –"

"You think he removed the symbol on the house?" Dean caught on to Sam's line of thought.

"I don't know," he shrugged and took a sip of his soda. "I'm gonna see what I can find out about him and his family."

Dean smiled at him. "Gonna practice your computer hacking skills?"

"Maybe," Sam said. He didn't feel like being teased, and didn't like that Dean wasn't taking him more seriously. He decided to let it go. "What time did you get home?"

"A couple hours ago," Dean answered as the front door opened.

"Hey, Sammy," their father said, walking in with an armload of grocery bags. "I went by the school to see if you were still there."

"I just got home. Is there more in the car?"

"Yeah, a couple more bags."

"I'll get 'em."

John nodded and continued to the kitchen. When Sam came back in a few minutes later, his dad and Dean were putting things away. He couldn't remember the last time they'd had to much food in the house at one time.

"I'll do this, Dean," Sam said. "You should be taking it easy. Sit down."

Dean glanced at their father, but John made it clear he wasn't going to come to his rescue. Dean decided it wasn't worth fighting with Sam about, so he sat down and let his brother finish helping with the groceries.

Once everything had been put away, Sam excused himself to the bedroom where he booted up the computer he'd gotten for his last birthday. He'd been more than a little surprised that his dad had gotten it for him, even though he'd started asking for one a few months before his birthday. The Winchesters traveled light and gifts tended to be practical, but Sam suspected that Dean had helped convince their dad that a computer could be helpful in hunting.

Sam had taught himself to do all sorts of legitimate and legal things with his computer, but he'd also learned how to hack into all manner of databases to find helpful information. He knew how to get in an out without being detected and how to cover his tracks in case his presence was discovered after the fact.

"Hey, Sammy." Sam turned from the computer when he heard his father's voice. "Your brother told me about what happened at school."

"I didn't think he'd really been paying attention."

John sat down on the foot of Sam's bed. "Have you found anything?"

"No sign of the family before they moved here. I hacked into the school records and found out they moved from San Antonio, Texas. I haven't found any record of Tim at the school he supposedly went to before. I can't find any record of his mom, either - nothing in the DMV here or in Texas."

John looked thoughtful. "Tell me what you know about them."

"Nothing much," Sam shrugged. "Tim is pretty private. We almost never go to his house and he doesn't study with us that much unless we do it at school. I don't think I've ever even seen his mom."

"You're careful with these boys, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said, a little surprised by the question. Then he glanced away. "But maybe not as careful as I thought if Tim –"

"That isn't where I was going, Son," John assured him. "It's interesting that he and his mother moved here shortly before us, but I didn't even know we were coming here until just a few days before we did. There's no way they could have come here preemptively."

"So, you do think I somehow clued him in, then."

"I didn't say that. Keep looking, okay? Let me know what you find out."

Sam nodded, feeling good that his father seemed to appreciate his efforts and skill. "Yes, sir."

-----

Aidan put his sketch book and other supplies in the trunk before getting behind the wheel of his car. He could have worked at the house, but he'd needed a change of scenery for some inspiration. He'd also wanted to give Dean some time alone with his dad and brother.

Even though it was cold, Aidan had ended up on a park bench a few miles from the Winchester house. He was happy with the amount of work he got done, and even though he was not even close to being finished, he felt like he was on track. He just hoped things stayed quiet so he wouldn't feel guilty about going to Detroit when the time came.

Aidan knew that John would be making dinner and that the hunter could be a very good cook when he was in the mood. Aidan's stomach growled in anticipation – he realized he'd not eaten all day.

When he walked into the house, the first thing he noticed was the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sam and Dean were both on the couch – Dean was stretched out with his feet on the coffee table and his eyes closed while Sam had a text book on his lap.

"Hey," Sam smiled as Aidan closed the door behind him. 'You get some work done?"

"Yeah," Aidan nodded toward Dean. "Is he asleep?"

"No," Dean answered without opening his eyes.

Sam looked at him, then back to Aidan. "Dad banned us from the kitchen."

"Fabulous. That means he's outdoing himself. Any idea what he's making?"

"Better be something I'm allowed to eat," Dean grumbled. "I don't want canned soup."

Sam shook his head and laughed when Aidan tousled Dean's hair as he walked past.

-----

Dinner turned out to be soup made from scratch with fresh vegetables and chicken. It was hardier than canned soup, but Dean would have preferred a steak. He didn't complain. The soup was good and he couldn't have steak, anyway. His mood improved as the evening progressed. Conversation over dinner was light and there was a lot of laughter –something that was sorely missing in the Winchester house normally.

Sam wouldn't let Dean help clean up after the meal, so he went back to the couch while his brother and Aidan handled the chore. John joined Dean in the living room and once the kitchen was clean, Sam went to the bedroom to do his homework.

Aidan sat with John and Dean, sketchbook at the ready, watching television with them.

It turned out to be a nice, quiet evening.

-----

Dean woke up with the last images of a dream on his mind. As soon as he realized he was awake, the dream slipped away completely. He looked at the bed across from him to see Sam lying on his stomach, his arms wrapped around the pillow as he slept. He'd kicked off his covers despite the room being a little chilly.

Dean got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. As he stood in front of the sink washing his hands, he had the feeling that something was wrong. The room seemed suddenly colder to him and it was if it wasn't as dark as it had been only a few moments before.

He stood in the hallway, looking around and listening closely. He heard his father snoring quietly in his bedroom and saw the door had been left partially open. He glanced into the room, but everything seemed in order. Sam was still asleep in the room the brothers shared. He hadn't moved since Dean left the room.

Aidan was asleep on the living room couch. It pulled out into a bed, but he'd apparently decided not to mess with it. The kitchen was as it should be, too, but something still seemed off to Dean.

Back in the bedroom, he quietly slipped into his jeans, then went back to the kitchen where his coat was hanging on a hook by the door. He pulled it on, got a flashlight from a drawer and picked up the shotgun from the pantry. He checked it quickly before opening the back door.

Dean walked off the porch onto the cold concrete, wishing he'd put on shoes. He went to each of the protective symbols to make sure they were all still in place. Just like in the house, everything outside was in order. Dean couldn't shake his feeling, though. He went back inside and when he turned from the pantry, Aidan was just coming into the kitchen.

"Dean, it's 4:30 in the morning. What were you doing outside?"

"Checking the symbols."

"Why?"

"I woke up and something didn't feel right."

Aidan stood up straighter. "Everything okay?"

"Near as I can tell. Why don't you take a look?"

Aidan opened the back door and took a step out. After a quick look around from the porch, he backed into the kitchen. "Nothing but damn cold air."

Dean was fairly certain he was telling him the truth.

"Maybe it's the dream I had."

"What dream?" Aidan asked as he got a glass out of the cabinet. He filled it with water, then turned to look at Dean.

"I don't remember, but I know I was dreaming when I woke up."

"You checked inside the house, too?"

Dean nodded. "All clear."

"I may as well take a look, too." He went into the living room and grabbed his jeans from next to the couch.

Dean waited in the living room, sitting on the edge of the recliner holding the shotgun between his legs. He was well aware of Aidan's talent, and it made him a little nervous. He trusted Aidan implicitly, but it was weird to know he could see things the rest of them couldn't.

"Nothing," Aidan confirmed when he returned to the living room. "You may as well go back to bed."

"What are you going to do?"

"Pretty much the same thing."

"Pretty much?"

"Well, you know, I'll be on the couch here."

"Not sleeping," Dean said knowingly.

"We'll see. Go to bed, Dean."

"Why do you feel like you need to keep watch?"

"I don't. Like you said, it was probably the dream you had."

Dean looked at him closely. "What's going on, Aidan?"

He glanced away from Dean or a moment. "I woke up thinking I'd had a dream, too. I don't remember anything about it. And…."

"And what?"

"Something felt wrong to me, too."

Dean looked at him, a sinking feeling coming over him. "But you didn't see anything, right?'

"I didn't see anything."

"I think I'm gonna make some coffee."

-----

John woke up to the sound of Sam's alarm going off across the hall. He smelled coffee and assumed that Aidan was already up. The alarm was silenced and John caught a glimpse of Sam walking across the hall into the bathroom. When the water in the shower came on, John got out of bed and went into the small bathroom adjacent to his room.

On his way to the kitchen, he paused at his sons' room, expecting to find Dean still asleep. His bed was empty, and he was surprised to find him dozing on the couch.

"What's Dean doing in the living room?" he asked Aidan, walking into the kitchen.

"He woke up earlier. We talked for a while and he fell asleep."

John poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled Aidan's cup. "What's going on?"

"Probably nothing, but we both woke up at pretty much the same time, feeling like something wasn't right. We didn't find anything."

"You should have woke me up."

"Why? There was nothing to tell you."

John sat down and Aidan nodded a thanks for the coffee. "I don't like this, Aidan. It feels like someone's playing with us and that makes me mad."

Aidan didn't respond. Instead, he took a long sip of the coffee.

"I need something to do," John said. "I'm making breakfast."

-----

Sam was surprised by the smell of food coming from the kitchen. He was further surprised to see his brother asleep on the couch. Sam watched him for a moment before continuing to the kitchen.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Just some scrambled eggs and toast," John replied. He set a plate on the table. "Have a seat. I'll take you to school."

Sam looked at Aidan. "Why is Dean asleep on the couch?"

"He woke up earlier and couldn't get back to sleep. I was working," Aidan took a sip of coffee. "We talked for a while, then he passed out."

"Passed out?" Sam repeated, alarmed.

"Sorry," Aidan apologized. "He fell asleep."

Sam ate a few forkfuls of the eggs. John set a plate in front of Aidan, then sat down with his own. Sam looked at him. "What are you worried about?"

"What do you mean?"

"You made breakfast."

"It's nothing, Sammy," John assured him. "I was just thinking about what had happened and that we still have to figure it out. I needed something to do with my hands is all."

Sam wasn't convinced. "Dean's okay?"

The older men exchanged a glance.

"Of course he is," John said.

"You keep an eye on him today, okay?"

"I will, Sammy. Don't worry about your brother."

"You know how he is. He'll try to do all kinds of things he's not ready to do yet."

"I'll make sure he follows the doctor's orders," John promised. "I was thinking I could have him clean and inspect the guns today. That'll keep in him the couch for a while."

"That's a good idea."

"Sammy, do you have print-outs or notes about the schoolmate you've been looking into?"

"I have notes, yeah. Why?"

"I thought I'd go about it the old fashioned way. See if I can flush anything out."

"I'll get them for you when I grab my books."

"Thanks."

Sam finished eating, then left the kitchen. Dean was still fast asleep on the couch, so he continued to his bedroom and finished getting ready for school. He made sure what he'd need for the day was in his backpack, grabbed his notes from the desk, then went back to the kitchen.

He spent a few minutes with his dad, going over everything he'd written down and the logic he'd been following.

"This is really good work, son. It seems like if there was something to find, you'd have done it." John put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Thanks, Dad." Sam smiled at the compliment. "We need to get going or I'll be late."

"Give me a minute and I'll be ready."

Sam waited for his father in the living room, watching Dean sleep. He looked all right, but it seemed odd that he'd sleep through their dad making breakfast.

"He's okay, Sam," Aidan whispered as he stood next to Sam. "He just got out of the hospital after surgery. He's not going to be his normal self right away."

"I know. Nothing happened earlier?"

"Nothing happened earlier."

-----

John was just walking in the door from taking Sam to school when Dean woke up.

"Dad?" he sounded groggy and confused.

"Right here, Dean. You okay?" John leaned over the back of the couch.

"What time is it?"

"Just before 8."

Dean groaned as he sat up.

"Dean?"

"I'm okay. Is Sammy at school?"

"Yeah, I just dropped him off."

Dean nodded. "I want a shower." He stood up and headed out of the room.

-----

John let Dean entertain himself, but as soon as he got a little antsy, John suggested he clean the guns. He knew that a bored Dean was a dangerous Dean. After readily agreeing, Dean got set up in the living room. Aidan lounged in the recliner with his sketch book and notes and while the two men worked, they chatted about all sorts of topics.

John sat in the kitchen, making phone calls, writing everything down….he paused for long periods listening to the ramblings of Dean and Aidan. They spoke seriously, then were joking. John thought it was good for Dean to have Aidan around. As close as he was to Sam, he needed another outlet. And Aidan was a good influence on him. John liked when Aidan visited; it somehow made things just a little more normal.

By early afternoon, John had gone as far as he could with Sam's information basically confirming what Sam had learned – the school records had been forged. Tim and his mother had never lived in San Antonio – at least not under the same names. But then he caught a break.

He'd called a lot of his contacts after they'd found out about the protection symbol. He didn't have much to share, but he'd get nowhere keeping it to himself. And he'd learned over the years that even minimal information could turn into something if shared with the right person.

John had just finished eating lunch with Dean and Aidan when his cell phone rang. He recognized the number, but was surprised that she'd call. With a glance at Aidan and Dean, John went down the hall to his bedroom to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, John. I hear you've got a mystery on your hands." Her voice was soft with an undercurrent of confidence and power. John remembered it well.

"How'd you hear about it?"

"Word spreads, John. You know that."

"So, do you know anything about it?"

"Not much, but….the same thing happened to me."

John gripped the phone. "What? When?"

"A couple months ago. I was living in San Antonio –"

"San Antonio?" John interrupted.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You first. Go on."

"That's about it, actually. I was renting a house because I was sticking around for a while. Did the whole protection symbol thing – gotta love Bobby, right? Anyway, I came home one day and all hell had broken out in the house. At first I thought it was just a break-in, but realized it had been spirits. I found one of the protection symbols missing. I put the word out and left town."

"Why didn't I hear about this?"

"I don't know."

"You told Bobby?"

"Not directly."

John signed to himself. He decided not to go down that road. At least not now. "What were you doing in Texas?"

"Taking a break, actually. I wasn't hunting at all, so that's why it was so easy to leave. So, what's with San Antonio?"

John told her about Sam's friend and the forged records.

"Huh. That's an interesting tidbit of information," she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah." John rubbed the back of his neck. "Where are you now?"

"Oklahoma. I'm still not hunting."

"You okay? Did something happen?"

"It's not important."

"It might be. Besides, I –"

"Don't," she warned, her voice losing its softness. "Don't go there. Look, I haven't heard about this happening to anyone else. For the time being, let's assume it was just you and me. That means whoever did it is connected to us somehow."

"That narrows down the timeframe, but it's longer ago than I would have thought."

"Yeah. Longer ago."

"Brenda –"

"I'm sorry," she said, again her voice was soft. "We need to compare notes. I didn't stay in Texas, but I've still been looking around if you know what I mean. I've got some information that might help. Why don't I come to you?"

John was surprised. There was no reason they couldn't share what they knew over the phone, but maybe she knew something she didn't want to talk about over the phone. Or, maybe she just wanted to see him again. He wasn't sure what he wanted.

"Uh, sure," John finally managed to say. "My boys…."

"I know."

He rubbed his neck again. "Okay. When can you get here?"

"Tomorrow night soon enough?"

"Yeah."

"I'll check into a motel and give you a call," she hesitated. "John…."

"Yeah. Me, too."

John didn't leave his room right away after the call ended. He had a few pictures, stupid souvenirs….But he didn't want to look at any of it. Seeing her in person would be hard enough.

-----

Sam tried not to act differently around Tim in class, but he found it difficult. He didn't know he'd been involved in sabotaging his house, but he was hiding something. He was almost relieved that Tim didn't show up for lunch, but he couldn't help wonder where he might be.

Sam didn't ask Andy or Rick about Tim. He didn't want either of them getting suspicious - Tim routinely disappeared during the day. The three boys ate lunch and talked about nothing in particular, and Sam's mind wandered a lot during the conversation.

The afternoon passed slowly for Sam and he had to struggle to pay attention in class. When the final bell finally rang, Sam walked to his locker to drop off a couple books he wouldn't need overnight. He'd just closed it and turned away when he noticed Tim standing down the hall at his own locker.

Sam thought about it for a moment, then slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked toward them. Tim saw him and gave a small wave.

"Hey, missed you at lunch today," Sam said.

"Yeah, I had something to take care of. Hey, how's your brother doing?"

Sam knew it was normal for his friends to be curious about Dean, but he bristled somewhat at Tim asking. "He's okay. Still restricted in what he can do, but okay."

"That's good."

"You know, it came up in conversation with the other guys that you haven't lived here much longer than I have. I didn't know that."

Tim busied himself with the books in his locker. "Yeah. A couple months, I guess."

"Where'd you move from?"

"San Antonio," Tim answered without hesitation.

"Huh. We've moved around a lot, but I've never lived there. What's it like?"

Tim closed his locker and looked at Sam. "I don't know. Like anywhere, I guess."

"Did you live there for long?"

"No. We were only there for a few months. My mom had a job there, but it didn't work out."

"Where'd you live before that?"

"What's with the third degree?" Tim asked, looking at Sam suspiciously.

"No third degree. I'm just curious."

"Boston. You ever live there?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "You ready to get out of here?'

"Yeah, let's do it."

Sam walked to the door with him, then saw their other friends on the sidewalk.

"You wanna walk with us?" Sam asked, nodding toward them.

"Yeah, sure."

-----

"Hey," Sam said when he walked into the house and saw Dean on the couch.

"Hey. How was school?"

"All right. I talked to Tim. He lied to my face when I asked him where he moved from."

"Yeah?"

"Then he told me they moved to San Antonio from Boston. That wasn't in his records. Not that it matters, cuz they were forged anyway. Where's Dad?"

As if in answer, John walked into the living room. "Hey, Sammy."

"Hi, Dad. Did you have any luck with your phone calls?"

"I only confirmed what you found out," he said. "But another lead might pan out. An old contact called and is coming into town tomorrow with some information. It could be useful."

"He didn't tell you what it was?"

"Just the basics. I'll know more soon."

"I just told Dean that I talked to Tim and he told me he moved here from San Antonio. Boston before that."

"Really. There was nothing about Boston in his records."

"His fake records?" Sam questioned.

John nodded. "Good point. You didn't make him suspicious by asking about him, did you?"

"Maybe, but I think it's fine."

"Be careful, Sammy," Dean said. "If he was involved –"

"I know. I'm being careful." Sam wanted to change the subject. "Where's Aidan?"

"Off working somewhere," John said. "He should be back soon. I'm cooking again tonight."

"Cool," Sam said. "What are we having?"

"I guess I should go figure that out," John laughed as he headed toward the kitchen.

"I want steak!" Dean called after him.

"Too bad."

Dean sighed. "It was worth a shot."

"Why were you asleep on the couch this morning?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at him. "I couldn't sleep, Aidan was awake. We talked for a while, then I fell asleep."

"That's it?"

"What else would there have been?"

"I don't know. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah, Sammy. I'm fine. Look, I really want you to be careful at school, okay?"

"I told you that I am."

"Yeah, I know. But I mean it."

"I know you do, Dean. I get it."

Dean looked at him for a long moment, as if he was trying to read Sam's mind. "Okay. Do you have a lot of homework?"

"Some. I'm going to stay late tomorrow with the guys to study for a test."

"Tim one of the guys?"

"He said he'd be there. Sometimes he changes his mind at the last minute, though." Sam looked at his brother. "Or was that another warning for me to be careful?"

Dean only shrugged.

-----

John had trouble falling asleep that night. He kept thinking about Brenda and he was also worried about Dean and Aidan waking up with the same feeling that something wasn't right. Neither one of them had been particularly forthcoming with that information, but eventually Dean had told him the real reason he'd been asleep on the couch.

John had tried to call Bobby a couple of times after talking to Brenda, but had gotten voicemail each time. He knew it was possible the hunter hadn't known what happened to her in San Antonio. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more convinced John became that Bobby didn't know. There were a lot of things that Bobby didn't necessarily share with John, but he wouldn't have kept that from him – especially not after the same thing happened again.

After tossing and turning for a while, John gave up and got out of bed. He opened his closet door and pulled a small wooden box from the very back of it. He knew Sam and Dean wouldn't go through is things, but he kept this particular box as hidden as possible while still keeping it nearby.

Inside, there were a few pictures from when Mary was still alive – he ran a finger over an image of her holding baby Sam that had been taken only a few weeks before she was killed. He smiled at Dean holding his little brother on his lap – he'd been protective from the first moment he'd seen the baby in the hospital.

He pushed his old military dog tags aside and picked up a smaller box. He hadn't looked inside this one for a long time, but he still knew what was in it: a few pictures of himself with Brenda and some reminders of their time together. He rubbed the top of the box, but didn't open it. Instead, he went back to his family mementoes before putting the box away and getting back into bed.

-----

John finally got in touch with Bobby the next morning. He'd dropped Sam off at school and was running a routine errand when his cell phone rang. When he saw the call was from Bobby, he pulled into the closest parking lot and answered the phone. He'd barely gotten a word out of his mouth when Bobby interrupted him.

"I didn't know, John. I swear, I didn't know."

"She said she didn't call you."

"She didn't. I don't know who she put the word out to, but it didn't get back to me."

"I know. I was angry when I called yesterday. I thought about it last night and…."

"When does she get into town?"

"Tonight sometime. I don't know if I'll see her then or not until tomorrow."

"You okay?"

John didn't really know how to answer that question. "It'll be fine."

"That ain't what I asked."

"That's the only answer I have."

Bobby grunted. "Anything else happen?"

"No. There's a kid at Sam's school that he suspects had something to do with it. We've found out that his school records are fake, but haven't been able to get a handle on the real ones. He and his mother live here, but the names they're using don't seem to be real. They might have been in San Antonio when Brenda was."

"You want me to take a look?"

"If you want to," John said, knowing that Bobby had some contacts in official law enforcement.

"I'll let you know if I find out anything."

"Thanks. And Bobby….?"

"Yeah, John, I know. Me, too, okay?"

"Thanks." John ended the call and was about to pull out of the parking space when his phone rang again. He took a deep breath before answering the call. "Brenda?"

"Hi, John. I just wanted to let you know that I hit some traffic. There's a big accident up ahead and I'm going to be even later tonight. Why don't we just meet for breakfast in the morning?"

"Sure, that's fine. Call me tonight when you get in, though, okay? I'll have my phone on."

"Okay, I will." After a short silence, she continued. "I, uh, I'm looking forward to seeing you. Even considering the circumstances….I know I could have told you about all this on the phone, but…."

John rested his head against the back of the seat. He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to seeing her, but he couldn't say that. He knew he'd been unfair to Brenda and while it seemed she'd either forgiven him for it, or simply moved on, John felt guilty. He pulled himself away from his thoughts realizing that Brenda was still speaking.

"...so, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Be safe, Bren." John didn't hang up until he was sure she had.

Back at home, John walked in on Dean and Aidan playing poker in the living room. "Really, guys?"

Dean looked at him and grinned. "It's okay, Dad. I'm up thirty bucks."

"Yeah, it's okay," Aidan grumbled.

-----

Sam's day was uneventful. He had a pop quiz in history and had lunch with all three of his friends. Tm was in an uncharacteristic good mood and Sam couldn't help but wonder why. He even showed up to study after their last class.

When the boys left the school, Sam was a little surprised to see the Impala parked at the curb. He said goodbye to his friends and made his way to the car. Dean was in the passenger seat and their dad behind the wheel.

"What's going on?" Sam asked sliding into the back seat.

"Your brother was going a little stir crazy in the house," John said.

"Not much of an outing to pick me up at school."

"We're going to Mr. Pete's," Dean said with a glance over his shoulder.

"What can you eat at that greasy diner?" Sam asked.

"Breakfast. Scrambled eggs, pancakes."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're suck a dork."

"Hey, I had major surgery," Dean said dramatically. "Mr. Pete's pancakes are almost as good as Dad's."

"Well, thanks for that, Son," John said with a laugh.

"Where's Aidan?"

"Meeting us there," John answered. "How was school, Sammy?"

"All right. Tim was in a good mood."

"He was?" John glanced into the rearview mirror. "Why?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I like it, though. We should be on guard tonight. Hey, Dad, your contact in town yet?"

"Not yet. We're meeting for breakfast in the morning."

"Why couldn't he just tell you on the phone?" Sam asked.

John looked at him in the mirror again. "I don't know, Sammy. But, uh, it's a she not a he."

"No kidding?" Dean asked.

"No kidding," John repeated.

"Do we get to meet her?"

John looked at him sharply. "Uh, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Dean."

He sighed.

Aidan was already at the diner when the Winchesters arrived. After ordering, he showed off his new sketches.

"Those are great," Sam said. "It already looks like a comic book."

"Thanks, Little Dude."

"Do I get an autographed copy when it's published?"

Aidan smiled at him. "Sure."

"Careful, Sammy," Dean warned. "There's probably a catch."

"Only for you, Slick. Only for you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Against the Branding**

**Chapter 4**

"Hey, Dean?" Sam whispered once they were in bed.

"What?"

"What do you think about Dad's contact being a woman?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"You think something went on between them?"

"Sam," Dean said sharply.

"What? Come on, Dean. I know you aren't a prude."

"I don't want to think about it."

"Oh, come on, Dean."

"Sammy, please?"

Sam turned onto his side and looked at his brother. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just don't wanna talk about this."

"What? You think Dad never –"

"Stop it!" Dean said loudly.

"Dean –"

"Just go to sleep, Sammy."

The room was too dark for Sam to see his brother's expression clearly, but he knew he'd hit a nerve. Sam often forgot that Dean had known their mother and even though his memories weren't clear, he was still very attached to her. The idea of their father interested in another woman was probably painful for him, but Sam was too young to understand that.

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean said nothing.

-----

"I heard you and Dean talking last night," John said as he drove Sam to school. "I heard Dean, I should say. You two all right?"

"I think I hurt his feelings."

"Is that why he didn't want to get out of bed this morning?"

"I don't know. He didn't talk to me for a while, but then told me to have a good day at school."

"You wanna tell me what you were talking about?"

Sam looked at his father, then shook his head. "No, sir."

John pulled up to the curb outside of the school.

"You're meeting that woman this morning?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. She called last night. She's about 30 miles outside of town."

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"Is that what you were talking about?" John asked. "You and your brother?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

John rubbed his chin. "You'd better get going."

Sam put his hand on the door handle, pausing when his father called his name. "Have a good day, Sammy. I'm sure Dean will be fine by the time you get home."

-----

John drove toward the diner where he was meeting Brenda, his thoughts on his sons. It was unusual for Dean not to get up when Sam's alarm went off, and John had been somewhat concerned. He'd heard the boys the night before, and couldn't remember the last time Dean had truly lost patience with his brother.

He'd tried to talk to Dean while Sam was in the shower – he'd just wanted to make sure Dean wasn't feeling any ill effects of their dinner out, but Dean hadn't been particularly forthcoming. John suspected his mood had something to do with Brenda. Sam was always curious and even though he was smarter than most kids his age, he didn't have the life experience to understand some things.

John knew how Dean felt about his mother, even though he didn't remember her very well, and he'd seen Dean's expression when he admitted his contact was a woman.

She was sitting in a rear booth when John walked into the restaurant. Her dark hair was cut short and it looked like she still spent quite a bit of time doing physical activity. Judging by her tan, she also spent a lot of time outside. She was so unlike Mary, yet the first woman he'd let himself care about after his wife's death.

Sam had just turned four when John met Brenda. He'd never encountered a female hunter and he'd been fascinated by her. She'd be strong and independent, seemingly untouchable. He'd been so inexperienced and she'd known so much. Jim Murphy had put them together, and John often suspected he'd done it for more than one reason.

Brenda saw him and smiled. She stood up as he approached and after a brief hesitation, she pulled him into a warm hug. It had been a while since he'd had his arms around a woman and even though it had been over a decade since he'd last seen her, Brenda felt familiar.

"You look older," she said after they sat down.

"You don't."

She smiled, almost shyly. "Liar."

A waitress came by to fill their coffee cups and she dropped off two menus.

"I gotta say I was surprised to get your call," John said. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah," she looked at the menu. "I am starving. I didn't eat much yesterday."

"Pancakes, two eggs over-easy, sausage patties and strawberry syrup."

Brenda looked at him. "You remembered."

"Yeah, but I don't know when your birthday is."

Brenda laughed. She closed the menu and clasped her hands on the table. "How are you, John?"

He shrugged. 'Overall I guess I'm all right. Still hunting, still looking for…."

"Yeah. I still keep my ears open for information about that, too."

John was surprised. "You do?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, for you, but also because it's something that could affect other hunters, other families."

"I don't feel like I'm any closer, but in a way, I guess I am."

Brenda nodded.

"So, Oklahoma?"

"Yeah, I'm training horses."

"How long have you been out of hunting?"

"A few years. I'm not completely out – if someone needs my help, I will, but I'm not actively looking for jobs. I needed a break, but I didn't think it would last this long."

"What happened?"

Brenda picked up her coffee cup. "It's not important. Sometimes it just gets to be too much, ya know?"

"Yeah, I do."

"How are the boys? They must be practically adults."

"Sam's 15. Dean's 19."

"Damn. It has been a long time!"

"It has," John agreed. "They're good. Dean had appendicitis – he's only been out of the hospital for a few days. Actually, that's kind of how this whole thing started."

"What do you mean?"

John went through what had happened in the last few days, starting with Dean in the hospital and ending with finding the protective symbol had been erased.

"And you suspect Sam's schoolmate is involved?"

"Well, he told Sam he lived in San Antonio before coming here, but there's no record of him there. We could be barking up the wrong tree with him, but something's off with his story. What were you doing in San Antonio?"

"Just living. I worked as a horse trainer there, too."

"Did you work any jobs while you lived there?"

"Just provided some advice and information, nothing active."

Their conversation paused when the waitress came to take their food order. Brenda ordered her favorite breakfast, while John decided on scrambled eggs with sausage and toast. They waited until their coffee had been refilled before getting back into their discussion.

"Let's assume for the time being that this is related to something that happened when we…when we were working together," John said. "Any ideas?"

"Well, that's sort of what I came here to talk to you about," Brenda said. "I could be completely wrong, but….do you remember Frank Monroe?"

John felt a pang of anger at hearing the name. "Frank Monroe. What does he have to do with anything?"

"Maybe nothing, but you know why he took off."

"He blamed us for his brother dying."

Brenda nodded. "I remember you blamed yourself, too."

"I should have been able to do something when that shape-shifter…." John shook his head. "Water under the bridge. I can't change what happened."

"It wasn't your fault, John."

He looked at her for a moment, then took a sip of coffee. "So, where is Frank now?"

"He's hunting in the southeast. I hear his name every now and then, but not for a while."

"But you think he might somehow be involved in this?"

"I don't know, but it's someone we have in common who doesn't like us."

"That was a long time ago. Why would he come after us now?"

"I'm just throwing out ideas."

"How did you find your protection symbols had been tampered with anyway?"

"Woke up one night to a pissed off spirit in my bedroom."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, I wasn't real happy about that."

"But you just left town without trying to fight back?"

"San Antonio was just a place, John. I didn't have an overwhelming desire to be there. And I love Oklahoma, so it worked out."

John thought there might be more to the story, but the waitress arrived with their food and they spent a few minutes eating quietly.

"I've made some calls to see if I can get a handle on Frank's location," Brenda said as she put down her fork and picked up the glass of juice she'd ordered. "Nothing yet, but I'm hoping. Do you think Bobby might be able to help?"

"He's not that tied into the southeast, but there's no harm in asking," John pulled out his cell phone and made the call. He got Bobby's voicemail and left a short message. He turned his attention back to Brenda. "What do you know about him? Any family other than the brother?"

"I know he and his brother got into hunting when their parents were killed by a demon. Frank was maybe 28 and his brother a little younger. I seem to remember the brother being married, but I could be wrong about that."

John searched his memory for any information, but he'd only met Frank's brother once and never got to know Frank very well. They'd gone on a handful of hunts together, but John had immediately disliked the man because Frank was dangerous and too impulsive. He preferred to go in with guns blazing than to do a little recon first – that was a trait John had noticed in Dean, as well, and had tried hard to nip it in the bud. He didn't think he'd been entirely successful.

"You came a long way to tell me something you could have told me on the phone," John said once they'd finished eating.

Brenda looked him in the eye. "I wanted to see you."

John wasn't sure how to react to that. He hadn't expected her to be so forthcoming – or for that to be her reason for driving 12 hours, though he probably should have known.

"Things between us….they didn't end well, but I was never angry with you about it," she said. "I've moved on, but I never….I never really got over it, ya know? I've heard things about you over the years, but I wanted to see for myself how you were."

John glanced away, and when he looked back to Brenda, she smiled. "Let's not do this here, okay? I need some sleep and you probably need some time to think. I kinda sprang this on you, I know. Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

John agreed before he realized what he was doing.

-----

Bobby returned John's call just after John hit the Merrillville city limits. Bobby said he'd talked to a few contacts, one of whom had worked with Frank Monroe within the last six months. They'd been together in Mississippi and as far as Bobby's friend knew, Frank was still somewhere in the south. The friend promised to try to get in touch with Frank, and he'd let Bobby know what he found out.

"So, how'd it go with Brenda?"

"All right. It wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be, but I get the feeling there's more to her story than she said," John said before he told Bobby about their conversation.

"Seems strange that she'd just leave San Antonio, even if she isn't hunting."

"And if she put out the call, why didn't you hear about it?" John asked.

"I guess it happens," Bobby said.

"Not very often, I'd wager," John grumbled.

"So, what are you saying? She didn't tell anyone, or it didn't happen?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, Bobby. You find out anything about Sammy's classmate?"

"Nothing you don't already know. He doesn't exist."

John found himself chuckling. "Great. Sammy's got an imaginary friend. I thought he'd outgrown that."

"He had an imaginary friend?"

"He was about six, I guess. Scared the hell out of me until I realized what was going on."

Bobby snorted. "I bet."

"I'm having dinner with Brenda tonight," John said after a moment. "Maybe I can get some more out of her."

"Dinner, huh? Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not."

"How far you planning to go with this little reunion?"

"I don't know, Bobby. I don't know."

"Well, I'm here if you need anything. I'll give you a call when I hear back about Frank."

"Thanks, Bobby. For everything."

-----

When John got home he found a note from Dean saying he'd gone off with Aidan and wasn't sure when they'd be back. John wasn't entirely surprised; he had a feeling his admission that his contact was a woman hit his older son hard. It would probably do him some good to spend time with Aidan.

John settled in the kitchen with the stack of notes he'd made and started to go through everything. He tried to keep his mind focused, but his thoughts wandered to Brenda and then to Dean. After a couple of hours, he gave up and went to a shooting range for some target practice. He had just finished and was heading to the parking lot when his cell phone rang. He hoped it would be Dean, but when he answered the call, he heard Bobby's voice.

"Frank Monroe has been out of circulation for about three months," Bobby said without preamble. "None of his usual cohorts have heard from him."

"That's interesting," John said leaning against his truck. "Now what does it mean?"

"It means he could be there."

"Or anywhere else."

"The guy I talked to, Bill Randall, said he's always been able to get in touch with Frank in the past. This is unusual."

"It still doesn't mean he's here."

"Yeah,, but it don't mean he ain't."

"You sure you aren't jumping to conclusions?"

"I didn't say he _was _there, but he could be."

John sighed to himself. "Yeah, he could be. So, what do I do?"

"Well, Bill is gonna try to get in touch with Frank. You just keep your eyes open."

"This situation is really staring to piss me off, Bobby. I feel like I'm trapped – I can't work on anything else until I find out what happened here and there are just way too many questions about it."

"There are suspects, John. And we haven't been working on it that long."

"I suppose."

"Keep your head here, John. One step at a time."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Bobby. I'll be in touch."

-----

It was a quiet day at school for Sam. Like usual, he had lunch with his friends and since the weekend was coming, they started talking things they could do. Sam wanted to spend time with his family, but he threw out some ideas anyway. There was always the chance that Tim would agree to do something with them, and he still felt it was a good idea to get to know him better.

After their last class, Rick and Andy stopped at Sam's locker.

"My mom is picking me up," Andy asked. "You want a ride, Sam?"

"Yeah, if my dad's not out there. Where's Tim?"

"Who knows?" Andy rolled his eyes as he headed toward the door.

"So, you must have a houseful, Sam."

He looked at Andy's mother after Rick got out of the car. He thought she'd gone the long way around to get to the Carver house before his own, but he didn't dwell on it.

"A houseful?" he repeated.

"Well, with your father home and your friend….Andy mentioned there was a friend of the family visiting."

"Oh, yes, ma'am. It's fine, though."

Mrs. Brown pulled backed out of the driveway. "How long will he be visiting?"

"I'm not sure. He has to be back in Detroit for a meeting in just over a week."

"Oh? Does he live in Detroit?"

"No, that's just where the meeting is."

"So, this must be a friend of your father's. Did they work together?"

"Not exactly," Sam hesitated, not sure how to avoid Mrs. Brown's questions. He'd never had to talk about Aidan before. Then he got an idea. "We used to live near his family. Our dads are friends, actually."

"Oh, that's nice," she said with a glance into the rearview mirror.

Sam looked out the window, noticing that Mrs. Brown still wasn't taking a direct route to his house.

"Mom," Andy began. "Sam lives the other way. On Oak, remember?"

She laughed. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'll have you home in a few minutes, Sam."

"It's not a problem," he said. "I appreciate the ride."

"I guess your brother can't pick you up yet. When does he go back to the doctor?"

"Friday. He'll probably get a release to drive and go back to work."

"I imagine your father will have to get back on the road soon."

"I'm not sure," Sam said.

"It's too bad he has to be gone so much," Mrs. Brown said with another glance into the mirror. "But I imagine you and your brother are close?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Turn right, Mom," Andy said when his mother had started to go to the left at an intersection. "Sam's house is almost at the end."

"Of course," she said with a laugh.

As Mrs. Brown parked at his house, Sam noticed Dean was bending over the trunk of the Impala.

"Thanks for the ride," Sam said, opening the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Andy."

"See, ya."

Dean stood straight and turned around when he heard the car door slam. He glanced over Sam's shoulder into the car.

"Hey, Dean."

"Hey, Sammy." Dean closed the trunk and fell into step with his brother. "Was that Andy's mom?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, opening the front door. "What were you doing outside? It's cold."

"Rearranging stuff in the trunk."

"Why?"

"I just wanted something to do, okay?"

Sam dropped his backpack next to the couch. "Where is everyone?"

"Aidan's at the library and Dad's in his room, on the phone."

Sam looked at his brother. "Hey, Dean? About last night…."

"Uh-uh," Dean shook his head. "Don't worry about it, okay? I over-reacted."

"But –"

"I said don't worry about it, Sammy." His tone told Sam to let it go.

"Dad making dinner?" Sam asked after a moment, glancing into the kitchen.

"Yeah. Still no steak."

Sam grinned. "You can't have steak yet."

"I know. Maybe after the appointment on Friday."

"If the doctor gives you the go-ahead," John said walking into the room and putting an arm around Dean's shoulders. "We'll have steak on Friday."

"Thanks, Dad."

"How did it go with your contact?" Sam asked with a glance in his brother's direction.

"Well, she has an idea about who might be involved, but we've got more to talk about. I'm having dinner with her tonight."

Dean pulled away and sat down on the couch. Sam was about to slide down next to him, but John caught his eye and motioned toward the back of the house. Sam stood up and grabbed his backpack. "I'm gonna do some studying."

-----

John waited until he heard the bedroom door close before he sat on the coffee table across from Dean.

"Something on your mind, Son?"

"No, Sir." Dean didn't look at his father.

"Dean," John leaned forward, but Dean didn't change his stance. John hesitated, not sure what he should say. This wasn't something he could bark an order at and be done with. He tried again, this time with a softer voice. "Dean, look at me."

It took him several moments, but Dean finally tuned his eyes toward his father.

"Is this about your mother?"

Dean looked away, but not before John saw the tears in his eyes.

"Aw, Dean," John sighed. "No one will ever replace your mother. Even after all these years, I still miss her. Every day. I haven't seen this other woman in ten years. Tonight isn't a date. I'm meeting with a contact."

John knew that wasn't entirely accurate, but it was the least complicated version of the truth. He watched as Dean struggled to come to terms with his feelings, wishing there was something he could do to help him. He laid a hand on Dean's wrist. "Dean?"

"I…." Dean looked at him and it struck John how much like a boy Dean suddenly looked. He'd thought of Dean as a man for so long because he'd needed Dean's help when he was far too young to be burdened. "I don't remember what she looked like. I can't remember her voice."

John felt tears in his own eyes. Without a thought, he moved to the spot next to his son and put his arm around him. At first Dean resisted, but then he leaned closer to his father.

"She had a soft voice that sounded like music. But if she got mad….she wasn't so soft then," John chuckled. "She used to sing to you when you were little. I remember you'd sit on her lap, staring up at her face and she'd sing….No matter how cranky you were, the sound of her voice would calm you."

"I wish I could remember."

"I wish you could, too, Dean." John shifted and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. With one hand, he pulled out the much worn pictures he kept in the center, hidden by all kinds of other things. He handed one of them to Dean. "You should keep this."

When Dean took the photo, John noticed his hand was shaking slightly.

"You were about two when this was taken," John said as Dean looked at the picture, rubbing his thumb over the image of his mother. ""We'd gotten you a small gym set for the back yard and this was the first time you were on the swing."

"There were two swings," Dean said quietly, still staring at the picture. It was a close-up of him with Mary – she was kneeling behind him as he sat in the toddler swing, holding him close. "And a slide."

"Yeah," John said, his voice gravely.

"And a….tower with a bridge?"

"Uh-huh. The tower is where the slide was and the bridge led to a deck to stand on. There was supposed to be a rope to climb down from the deck, but you weren't old enough for that yet."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm too old to be acting like this."

John smiled to himself, then pulled Dean into a hug. "No, you're not. It's okay." John kissed Dean's head lightly.

When Dean straightened up a few moments later, John knew their conversation was over.

-----

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, feeling a little apprehensive as he sat down next to his brother on the couch. Their dad had been gone for just over an hour and Sam couldn't concentrate on his homework because he was worried about Dean. Sam didn't know what their father had said to him, but it hadn't improved Dean's mood. "Did you eat yet?"

"I'm not hungry," he said, staring at the television.

Sam glanced at the screen, then back to his brother. "You need to eat."

"I said I'm not hungry," Dean sounded more sad than angry.

Before Sam could say anything else, Aidan walked out of the kitchen. "Hey guys, I need to get some things from the artists' supply store at the mall. You can come with if you want."

"No, thanks, I'm good," Dean said, still not looking away from the television show that Sam knew he wasn't really watching.

"Sam?"

"No, thanks."

"Okay. I'll be back soon."

Sam waited until Aidan was out the door before trying to talk to his brother again. "I don't have much homework tonight. You wanna play some cards or something?"

Dean glanced at Sam from the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean sighed loudly and turned off the television. Sam knew if he was really annoyed or didn't want to talk, Dean would have turned the volume up or just continued to ignore him.

"I guess I'm just tired of not being able to do what I want. I'm grumpy."

"And you don't like that Dad's contact is a woman."

"Sam." Dean's tone was a warning.

"Yeah, okay." Sam sighed to himself.

-----

Aidan ended up walking up and down every aisle in the art supply store and buying more than he really needed. He wasn't surprised – he could lose hours in a well-stocked store. While he roamed, his thoughts turned to Dean and the time they'd spent together earlier in the day.

Aidan had been surprised to find out how upset Dean was that his father was meeting with a woman. It had never occurred to him that John's sons didn't know he'd had a few dalliances in the past, but then it made sense they'd prefer not to think of their father that way. And Dean was so fiercely loyal to the mother he barely remembered….Aidan paused at a display of charcoal pencils as he considered Dean's feelings about his mother.

As he paid for his purchases, Aidan thought about what he could do to help Dean through this. He suspected that Dean's mood was especially sour because he was still restricted in what he could do because of the surgery and Aidan knew he was frustrated about that. He was also angry that they still didn't seem any closer to solving the mystery of who had sabotaged the Winchester house. Dean had been doing his own research, but hadn't come up with anything that his brother or father hadn't.

On his way back to the house, Aidan stopped at the grocery store and picked up some ice cream. He knew it was an empty gesture, but it would give the three of them something to do for a few minutes other than pretend to watch television. He also knew that Dean preferred pie, but Aidan wasn't sure he was allowed to have that yet.

His head full of ideas about how to distract Dean for the rest of the evening, Aidan was in a good mood when he turned onto the street where the Winchesters lived. He was even singing along with the radio until he got closer to the house.

"Oh, crap."

-----

John couldn't help but feel a little guilty to be sitting in a nice restaurant with Brenda when he knew that Dean was hurting at home. He knew their talk had done Dean some good, but he didn't think it had helped a lot. Nothing had been resolved; Dean had simply pushed it all away like he often did.

"You said Bobby found someone who knew Frank?" Brenda prompted after the waitress brought their drinks.

"Bill Randall," John said after swallowing some of his beer. "He's always been able to get in touch with Frank, but not now. Apparently that's unusual."

Brenda nodded thoughtfully.

"He's going to keep trying and will let Bobby know," John said. He looked at Brenda. "So, tell me about not hunting. What's going on?"

Brenda visibly stiffened, but she still smiled. "It just got to be too much. You know what kind of life it is."

"Yeah, I do," John said. "So what? You just stopped or –"

"It's like I told you before. I took a break and it's lasted longer than I expected."

"How long has it been?"

She shrugged. "A few years."

John couldn't let go of the idea that there was something more to her story; something she didn't want to tell him. He couldn't help but wonder if it could somehow be related to the current situation.

"Any plans to get back into it?"

"Not really. Not any more than I am now, anyway," she answered. "Do you let your boys hunt?"

"Sam hasn't been on an actual hunt, but he's a whiz with research. Dean's gone out with me a few times. That boy has some real talent for this job."

"I'm not sure that's such a good thing."

John felt a pang in his stomach. He wasn't sure, either. "Yeah, well, it is what it is. At least for now. He keeps his brother safe and helps me out."

"You still think what happened to your wife had something to do with Sam?"

For some reason that John couldn't explain, he didn't want to answer that question. He couldn't get past the idea that Brenda had her own agenda.

"I still don't have much concrete evidence," John said, picking up his beer. He managed to steer the conversation back to things he felt safer discussing and after their meals were delivered, they stuck to lighter topics.

They'd just decided to order dessert later when John's phone rang. He looked at the phone, then at Brenda. "I need to take this." She nodded and he answered the call while heading toward the door. "Aidan?"

-----

"Where are they?" John demanded as he rushed toward Aidan.

He stood up and put a hand on John's arm. "They're fine. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Aidan. I want to see them."

"Of course you do, but you need to rein it in a little. Get a hold of yourself."

John took a deep breathe. "I want to see them. Now."

Aidan nodded and led him to an examination room near the back of the emergency ward. The brothers weren't being admitted, but the doctor wanted to hold them a while for observation. John had tried to pay attention when Aidan told him what happened, but after hearing the boys were in the hospital, he'd had a hard time concentrating on the details.

John felt like his heart seemed to skip a beat when he pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the cubicle where his sons were. They were both sitting up in their beds, smudges of soot on their faces and arms. Dean's arm was resting over his abdomen, but otherwise, both of his sons looked none the worse for wear.

"Are you all right?" he asked, standing between the beds. He laid a hand on Sam's face, checking him over quickly before turning his attention to Dean. "You?"

"We're fine, Dad," Dean assured him. He looked a little too wide-eyed for John's tastes, though.

"Are you in pain?" John asked, nodding toward his son's resting arm.

"I busted a couple stitches. I'm just sore."

"You get patched up?"

"Yes, sir."

John was still on edge, but he tried to conceal his emotions as she sat on the edge of Dean's bed. "What happened?"

Dean glanced at Sam, then looked at their father. "We were in the living room, watching TV, and we heard something in the kitchen. It sounded like a whistle or something. I went to check it out, Sammy was behind me…the stove just exploded. I…I guess it was a gas leak, but…."

John put a hand on his arm. "It's okay." He looked at Sam. "You sure you're all right?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said.

"What did you see?" John asked Aidan. "You said you'd gone out?"

"To the art supply store," Aidan said with a nod. "I'd just pulled onto the street when I saw smoke coming from the back of the house. I don't know if it's related or not, but I also saw some spirits hanging around. I called 911, then ran into the front door. The boys were….things were under control."

John looked back to Dean. He seemed to be paying attention, but his eyes looked empty. It suddenly occurred to him that his son was probably remembering the fire in their Lawrence home. He squeezed Dean's wrist inconspicuously.

"Fire department handled what they needed to," Aidan said. "Ambulance brought Sam and Dean here."

"How much of the house was damaged?" John asked, maintaining physical contact with Dean.

"I think it was just the kitchen, but there's probably smoke and water damage," Aidan said. "You want me to head back to the house?"

"How much longer is the doctor keeping the boys?"

"He said maybe a couple of hours."

"Dad, we're fine," Sam said. "We don't need to stay."

John glanced at him. "I want to talk to the doctor. Aidan –"

"I'll go to the house."

"Thanks," John said quietly. He felt Aidan's hand on his shoulder and a moment later he was alone with his sons.

-----

John wasn't surprised at the condition of the house when he got home with the boys. He'd seen the damage of a fire before. He watched as Dean walked around the ruined living room and into the kitchen. He seemed to be in a daze and John was worried about what this experience was doing to him. It had taken a few minutes to get past the neighbors, and Dean hadn't spoken the entire time.

"Sammy, how about check out the bedrooms," John suggested.

"Yes, sir."

John went into the kitchen. He put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Why don't you go to the back of the house with your brother?"

"Dad…."

"I know, Dean."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What for?"

Dean looked around the room.

"This isn't your fault, Dean." He stood straighter and changed his tone so that it was more authoritative. "Now, go check on your brother. We're gonna have to stay somewhere else tonight, so pack a bag."

"Yes, sir." Dean seemed to be relieved.

John found Aidan in the back yard with a fire inspector. Aidan made introductions.

"Looks like it was caused by a gas leak," the inspector said. "I'll get a report to you for the insurance as soon –"

"I'm just renting," John said.

"Ah. Well, then I'll need the landlord's name and address if you have it handy. I'd suggest staying someone else at least for tonight. The structure is stable, but it doesn't smell so good in there."

"That was my plan," John told him.

They discussed some other details and as the inspector walked away, John noticed Sam and Dean standing close together near the house. He turned to Aidan. "You really think this was a simple gas leak?"

"Not so much."

John nodded. He glanced at the boys again. "Dean's not handling this well. The fire."

"Not surprising."

"We had a talk about his mom."

"Yeah, I figured that was coming. We talked a little about her and Brenda. Well, mostly he talked and speculated."

John nodded. "And now this."

"Look, I'm gonna pack a bag. Why don't I have Sam pack one for you and –"

"Thanks, but no. Dean needs to feel useful right now."

"You sure?"

"No." Aidan looked at him surprised and John shrugged. "I'm making this up as I go along."

John sent Dean and Sam ahead to a motel, insisting that Sam drive, while he and Aidan packed and secured the house.

"Aidan," John said suddenly. "You told me before that there were spirits around the house when you got here. Are they here now?"

Aidan shook his head. "No. We're here alone."

John nodded. He sat down heavily on the sofa.

"You okay?" Aidan asked. "I mean, this fire….You remember the last one better than Dean does and –"

"I'm okay," John said tiredly. "Thanks."

"I think we're about done here. Why don't you go to the motel, be with the boys? I'll take another look around and meet you there in a little while."

John sighed. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea." He stood up. "Aidan…."

"Yeah, man. I know." Aidan pulled John into a hug.

-----

The motel John had sent the boys to was only a few miles away from the house. He'd gotten a call from Dean after they'd secured two adjoining rooms, so he knew they'd gotten there all right and were settling in. He called Brenda as he drove to meet his sons and updated her on what had happened. She sounded sincere when she offered her condolences and asked if there was anything she could do. John thanked her before turning her down. There was nothing she could do; everything had been handled and he didn't think Brenda needed to be around the boys.

When he got to the motel, John found Sam working on his math assignment and Dean was on one of the beds, his back against the headboard. He was pale and John had the feeling Dean wasn't as calm as he appeared.

He told them what the fire inspector had said and that they'd be able to go back to the house the next day if they wanted to.

"Dad," Sam glanced at his brother, then back to John. "We were talking before and….we don't think this was an accident."

"To be honest, neither do I," John said. "What are you thinking?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just….it seems like too much of a coincidence."

"Yeah," John rubbed the back of his neck. "That's about as far as Aidan and I got, too. Look, I need to give the owners of the house a call. You two need anything?"

"No," Sam said. He glanced at Dean again.

John stood up and patted his older son's leg. "I'll be right outside."

-----

The family finally settled into bed just after 11pm. Sam ended up sleeping in Aidan's room so that everyone had a bed to themselves. John had a hard time falling asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the fire from years ago. He couldn't get the image of Mary pinned to the ceiling and bursting into flames.

John was dozing when he heard a quiet whimper from across the room. He opened his eyes and looked at Dean. The room wasn't completely dark, but he still couldn't see the boy clearly. John didn't want to overreact, so he waited and relaxed a little when Dean remained quiet. It didn't last long.

"Dean," John sat on the edge of his son's bed as he thrashed, trying to wake him up. After a few moments, Dean's eyes were open, but he didn't seem to be seeing his father. John held onto his arms until he was sure Dean was fully awake. "Bad dream?"

Dean nodded. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You want to talk about it?"

"No. Thanks."

"Dean, I'm not sure what to do right now," John admitted. "I know I always act like I know what I'm doing. I guess most of the time I do, but not about this. You're so strong and capable, but I….I know how I feel about tonight's fire. I can only imagine how you feel."

"Dad," Dean hesitated, then looked his father in the eye. "I…I already feel weird enough about earlier when we talked about Mom. I….I don't think I can handle another tender moment. Tonight wasn't the same as before. No one died."

John nodded, smiling slightly. He was proud of his boy. He knew that Dean wasn't really as okay as he was trying to be, but he was trying.

John had just gotten to sleep when his cell phone rang.

-----

Bobby was horrified to hear about the fire. He agreed that it probably hadn't been a random accident, but told John he wasn't sure the supernatural was involved.

"What makes you say that?" John asked.

"I heard from Bill Randall. He hasn't talked to Frank yet, but he learned something. Chris, Frank Monroe's brother had a wife and son. The boy is about Sam's age."

"I didn't know that."

"Guess where they live."

"Aw, hell, you're kidding, right?'

"Nope. They live in Merrillville."

"Who are they, Bobby?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Against the Branding**

**Chapter 5**

"Dad, you can't send Sammy to school," Dean protested after John had given him the gist of Bobby's information. He wouldn't have shared anything with him yet if Dean had still been asleep when the call ended. "And it would make sense for him not to go considering what happened last night."

John hadn't had enough time to formulate a plan. He didn't know what to do. Sam had been right about one of his classmates being involved, but wrong about which one it was.

"Dean…." John sat down on the edge of his own bed and clasped his hands between his legs. "I need time to think."

"Dad?" Sam stood in the open doorway between the two rooms.

John looked at him, a sick feeling in his stomach. "What are you doing awake?"

"What's going on?" Sam walked into the room and sat down next to his brother. He sounded somewhere between determined and terrified.

"Bobby called with some information," John said quietly. "Seems that one of your classmates is the son of someone I hunted with a long time ago."

"Tim," Sam said knowingly.

John shook his head. "One of your other friends. Andy Brown. Except that isn't his real name."

"What? Andy? I don't understand. Bobby's sure about this?"

"He is."

"But Tim…?"

"There's something going on with him, too, but I don't know what. I don't want you to go to school today," John said with a look in Dean's direction. Now that he had something to concentrate on – his brother's safety – he seemed more like his usual self.

"But –"

"Sam, please," John said. He was exhausted and not in the mood to argue. He knew his tone was sarcastic and likely to cause the exact opposite reaction he wanted, but he couldn't help himself. "I usually enjoy the discussions we have when you feel like defying me, but I'm really not in the mood this morning."

John noticed the hurt look on Sam's face and the glance that passed between him and his brother. He wanted to apologize, but Sam beat him to it. "I'm sorry, Dad. I won't go to school."

John nodded.

"What do we do now?" Dean asked.

"Sammy, tell me everything you know about this Andy Brown."

-----

After hearing everything Sam had to say, John decided the best way to approach things was directly. He showered and dressed, left the boys at the motel with Aidan and went to the Brown house. It was early, but he knew that Andy would be headed to school. From what Sam had told him, Andy's mother was a secretary who went to work later in the morning.

John stood on the porch, hesitating before ringing the doorbell. After a moment, he squared his shoulders and pressed the button. It didn't take long for the door to be opened by a woman about his own age.

"Damn," she whispered.

"You know who I am?"

"Yeah. And by the look on your face, I'm guessing you know who I am, too. Come in."

John was taken aback by her directness as well as her hospitality. He didn't let his guard down as he walked into the house and followed her to the kitchen.

"Coffee?"

"No, thanks." John really wanted the caffeine, but he didn't trust her not to drug the coffee.

"Have a seat," she nodded toward the table. She joined him a moment later with a cup for herself.

"How did you find out?" she asked.

"That doesn't matter right now," John told her. "I didn't know that Chris was married when I knew him. I didn't know about the boy."

Janet nodded. "Chris' brother, Frank, was here not long after you moved to town. He and I were picking Andy up at school and he recognized you. He told me who you were."

"And you decided to what? Get revenge?"

She looked shocked. "What are you talking about?"

John believed her reaction was genuine. "Things have happened at my house. Things that have put my boys in danger. You didn't know about that?"

"No. Look, I know what Frank thinks about you - that you'd been responsible for Chris' death. But I also know what Brenda said. I –"

"You know Brenda?"

"I haven't seen her in year, but yes. She came to see me a few months after Chris died. She told me what happened. What really happened. Frank still blames you, but I don't."

"Where is Frank?"

She smiled sadly. "I don't know. He was keeping in touch and visiting regularly, but I haven't been able to get in touch with him for at least a month. Since he saw you."

"Is there any way he could be in town without you knowing?"

"It's possible, sure, but….What happened at your house?"

John told her about the protection symbol, the hovering spirits and the fire from the night before.

"If Frank was after you, he'd be more forthcoming than that," she said with confidence. "He'd come at you straight so you'd know it was him."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"So, if it isn't Frank and it isn't you…."

"Oh my God," she breathed, her face losing all color. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Andy."

"You think your _son_ did those things?" John was stunned.

"I never lied to Andy about what his father did. After he was old enough to understand, I answered his questions truthfully. Frank started teaching him some things and….well, you know how boys are. Andy loved learning about the weapons and the creatures. I didn't like it, but I felt if I kept him away from it completely that would somehow reflect badly on his father. And he's amazingly loyal even though he barely remembers Chris."

John thought about Dean's devotion to the mother he hardly knew. "Yeah, I understand how that can happen."

"What I don't understand though, is how Andy could have known about those symbols on your house. We don't use anything like that."

"Frank may have taught him about them, or he learned on his own. If he suspected they were on the house, he would have been able to find them. But getting rid of a protection symbol is vastly different than a arranging a gas leak."

"That _could _have been a random accident," Janet pointed out.

John didn't believe in random accidents, but he saw no reason to argue the point. If Andy had sabotaged the house, that was enough. He nodded noncommittally.

"I should talk to him immediately," Janet said. "I'll go to the school and –"

Before finishing the sentence, Janet was out of her chair and pulling on a coat. John didn't try to stop her. He followed Janet to the school, but waited in his car while she went inside to get Andy. He wasn't sure exactly what the plan was, but it turned out that was something he didn't have to worry about.

John saw Janet rush out of the school building and run toward him. He got out of the car, his heart sinking when she told him that Andy hadn't been in homeroom and wasn't in his first period class.

"Do you have any idea where he'd go?" John asked, desperately trying to control his emotions.

"I…I don't know. Oh, my God. What if Frank is here? What if I'm wrong and it isn't Andy, but it's Frank? Or they're working together? I –"

John grabbed her by the arms. "You have to stay calm, do you understand me?"

Janet took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry."

"I need to call my sons to let them know what's going on. Think about where Andy might have gone." John took a few steps away and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Dean's number, becoming concerned when it went to voicemail. He tried Aidan's phone, but the same thing happened. When Sam's phone went to voicemail, too, John knew something was wrong.

"I can't get a hold of anyone," John said. "I'm going to the motel we stayed in last night."

"I should go with you," Janet said quickly. "If Andy is there, or…."

John nodded. "Get in."

-----

Aidan drove down the street to a fast food restaurant for breakfast. He'd asked the boys to come with him, but they'd declined. He could tell that Dean wasn't feeling well, and there was no way Sam would leave him alone. Aidan knew he'd only be gone for a few minutes – just long enough to go through the drive-through for biscuits and something to drink for the three of them. The line was longer than he'd expected, but he was still back at the motel within 20 minutes.

"Hey, guys?" Aidan called as he walked into the room he'd slept in with Sam. He didn't hear any noise from the one adjoining and when he looked through the open door, he felt sick. It was clear there'd been a struggle and there was no sign of either of the boys.

He immediately reached for his cell phone, but the battery was dead. He dropped the food onto the table in his room, then rummaged through his bag for his phone charger. It took him a few moments to realize he had an adaptor in his car. When he got the phone turned back on, Aidan saw he'd missed a call from John. He didn't bother to check the voicemail before calling him back.

"Aidan, where are you?" John demanded.

"I'm at the motel. John –"

"Where are the boys?"

"I don't know," Aidan said. "I ran out to get us some food and when I got back, they were gone. The Impala is here. John, it looks like they put up a fight."

"I'm almost there," John said gruffly. "Start looking around and asking questions."

"You got it."

-----

Aidan walked up to John's car when he parked.

"This is Janet," John said quickly as he stood up. "Andy's mother. What have you found out?"

"I talked to the woman in the office. She said the motel was practically empty last night. Only a couple rooms other than ours were rented and the people are already gone. She didn't hear anything this morning, and neither did the housekeeping staff. Damnit, John, I was only gone for a few minutes. I'm sorry."

"I want to see the room."

Aidan and Janet stood out of the way while John looked for any clues the boys might have left. He didn't find anything.

"Andy couldn't have done this," Janet sounded miserable. "There's no way he could have overpowered both of your sons. Frank has to be involved."

"We have to figure out where they would have taken Sam and Dean," John said.

Janet shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't know."

"The house," Aidan said, suddenly.

John looked at him. "Our house?"

Aidan nodded. "I…I just have a feeling that's where they are."

-----

As John drove toward the house, he thought about how little sense it made for the boys to have been taken back there. It wasn't exactly a secluded location – they had neighbors who could potentially see or overhear something. There were smarter places to take them.

Aidan didn't have these premonitions often. They weren't even really strong enough to be called premonitions, actually, but they'd never proven wrong before. And without other options, John was willing to take the chance.

"John…."

John looked toward the passenger side of the car after turning onto his street. The expression on Aidan's face was nothing short of astonishment. John brought the car to a stop, looking at the house. It seemed completely normal to him. "What do you see?"

"The house….I can barely see it under all the shadows."

"You think we can get inside?"

"I don't know."

"I don't understand," Janet said from the back seat. "I don't see anything."

John barely gave her a glance. "Aidan can see things the rest of us can't. The shadows he's seeing are spirits." He put the car back into gear. "You can get out here if you want."

"No. If my son is in there…."

John continued to the house and parked at the curb. He and Aidan went to the trunk and collected various weapons that could potentially help them. Janet stood in the background, hugging herself.

"We'll go around to the back," John said. "The back yard is fairly private."

Aidan nodded as John turned to Janet. "How are you with a shotgun?"

"Not all that great, but I know how to use one."

"Close enough."

The group made their way to the back yard with Aidan relating what he saw along the way. A few of the spirits separated themselves from the group covering the house, but nothing seemed interested in stopping them.

Going into a building where supernatural creatures were congregating was always an eerie experience, but knowing that Aidan could see what they were facing while he could not gave John an added feeling of nervousness. He didn't like leading Janet, someone with no experience, into the house, but she'd refused to wait elsewhere. John understood that. No matter what, he wouldn't wait on the sidelines when his sons were involved.

With Aidan keeping watch, John looked in each of the windows on the back on the house. He was able to see into the boys' bedroom and the kitchen, but there was no sign of anyone.

"What's your sense telling you now?" John asked, standing next to Aidan.

"I still feel them here, John. It could be because they live here, but I don't think so. It feels stronger than that."

John nodded. "Let's go inside."

He led the way, Janet walked behind him, and Aidan brought up the rear. The hope was that Aidan would be able to see an attack coming before it happened and could warn John and Janet. John shuddered as he passed through where he assumed the shadows were floating even though he could see nothing unusual.

They moved slowly and carefully, but as soon as John had passed across the threshold, he called his sons' names.

Silence was the only answer.

"We're not alone," Aidan said quietly. John turned to look at him, seeing Janet's pale face before his eyes landed on Aidan. "We're not overrun, but there are shadows hovering around. I can't see any details, but they seem to be keeping their distance."

"Is this normal. Um, usual?" Janet asked, her voice shaking.

"Not particularly,' John said.

They crept through the house, but each room proved to be uninhabited by anything other than the spirits. Back in the kitchen, they heard a noise from the basement. John and Aidan exchanged looks.

"I haven't been down there since we moved in," John said.

"If they're here, where is the car they came in?" Janet asked.

John had wondered the same thing, but that had seemed a minor complication. "I don't know. Maybe they dropped off Sam and Dean, then left for some reason. Could be they're just hiding the car."

After a moment, John nodded toward Aidan before going to the door that led to the basement. He'd only been downstairs once to check it out. It wasn't finished, but there were bare light bulbs handing from sockets for illumination. He remembered the stairs were narrow and steep with no other way to get in; there would be no way to get down them undetected.

With another look at Aidan, John opened the basement door. The lights were on and he now had no doubt that the boys were down there. Leading with his shotgun and Aidan close behind him, John started down the stairs.

"Come on down, John. We've been waiting for you."

He hesitated for a moment, recognizing Frank's voice. After taking a few more of the steps, John could see the room below him. Sam and Dean were tied to wooden chairs, with gags in their mouths. It looked like they'd put up a fight before being taken – John saw dried blood on Dean's face and an already swelling eye. Sam didn't look a lot better. A boy he assumed to be Andy was standing behind them, a shotgun resting in his arms.

"This is between you and me, Frank," John growled. "There was no need to bring my sons into it."

"You killed my brother. You took something from me, so I'm going to take something from you."

John's blood ran cold.

"I see you brought a friend with you," Frank said when Aidan joined John in the basement. "Sweet."

John wondered if the spirits were a part of his plan or, if somehow, their arrival was unrelated. He didn't take the time to think about it.

"You know, I kept tabs on you for a while," Frank said. "But then you seemed to go underground. More underground than most hunters, that is. I lost track until I just happened to see you a few weeks ago."

"What happened to Chris was an accident," John said. "It wasn't anyone's fault."

"You could have saved him."

"Yeah, I thought so, too. I blamed myself for a long time, but think about it Frank. There was no way I could have figured out which one was the shape-shifter. It was identical to Chris." John didn't think he'd really be able to reason with Frank, but he had to try. He couldn't count on Janet to take action against her family, so the two sides were even in their firepower. All John could see, though, was the one pointed at his sons. There was also the question of the ghosts – were they somehow being controlled by Frank? "You were there, Frank. You know what happened."

"Shut up," Frank said with pure venom in his voice. "Just shut up."

"Frank."

John chanced a glance up the stairs as Janet made her way down.

"Janet…." Frank sounded shaken. "Wha – what are you doing here?"

"Frank, listen to me. You can't do this. It's wrong. And to have involved Andy….I –"

"I'm here because I want to be, Mom. Dad would still be here if it wasn't for him." He pointed his gun at John.

"Andy," Janet's voice was calm. "Put the gun down, Honey. Listen to me."

"It's too late," Andy said. He looked determined, but his voice was shaking. "I've already made my decision. I've worked too hard to get here. I mean, do you know how _hard_ it was to pretend to be friends with Sam here? Knowing his father was responsible for my dad's death?"

John had to restrain himself when Andy pressed the muzzle of his gun into Sam's back. He could see his son struggling not to react, but he also saw the fear on his face.

"Andy, even if that were true, hurting John's sons isn't the answer."

"You don't understand," Andy spat. "Besides, I'm not going to have to do a thing. It's all set."

"What do you mean?" Janet asked, fear creeping into her voice.

"There are pissed off ghosts all over this house," Andy said. "I got rid of a protection symbol so they could get in. And I've learned how to control them."

"What?" Janet whispered. "What do you mean?"

"He's an excellent student, Janet. You should be proud of him. His father would be."

"Don't you dare!" Janet yelled. "Don't you tell me his father would be proud of him for _murdering _two innocent boys!"

Before John could react, Janet was running forward. She still held the gun, but pushed Frank roughly with her free hand. He stumbled backward, tripping over something that John couldn't see. As he fell, his gun went off. John and Aidan fell to the ground, rolling out of the way.

"Mom!" Andy yelled.

John looked up, his own gun at the ready, expecting to see that Janet had been hit by the bullet. Instead, he saw blood pouring from Andy's arm. The boy dropped his weapon and pressed a hand against the wound. As Janet moved toward him, John and Aidan jumped up simultaneously. Aidan kicked the gun away from Andy while John covered Frank. It took every ounce of strength he had not to shoot the man.

Without Andy's influence, the spirits began to react. At first it was just in the form of loud hissing, but it didn't take long for them to begin attacking. John shot several with rock salt before he could bark out orders.

"Janet, get Andy out of here! Aidan, help me with the boys!"

Janet didn't hesitate and John pulled a knife from an inside coat pocket to cut the rope binding Sam while Aidan freed Dean. John tried to concentrate on the task at hand - it was more difficult having to defend against the ghosts, but as soon as the boys could stand, the foursome made their way out of the basement. John hadn't noticed that Frank was already gone.

Janet had only managed to get Andy as far as the back yard. When John got outside with Sam, he saw Aidan was checking the boy's wound as Dean sat on the ground nearby. The ghosts didn't seem interested in going after them once they'd left the house – everything outside was calm and as it should be.

Sam rushed toward his brother, kneeling down next to him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"Your eye…."

"I'm okay," Dean brushed Sam's hands away, but wasn't able to avoid his father's examination.

"He's gonna be okay," Aidan said to Janet. "It's just a flesh wound. We can take care of it with a first aid kit."

"Aidan," John began, still concentrating on Dean. "What's going on with the ghosts?"

"No shadows around the house. I don't see anything."

"Let's get out of here. We'll go back to the motel for now. I need to get a better look at Dean."

"I'm okay, Dad."

"Yeah, well, I'm not convinced of that yet."

"Where's Frank?" Andy asked as Aidan helped him to his feet.

John muttered something under his breath. "Everyone get to the car. Sammy, help your brother. I'll check the basement."

"I'll go with you," Aidan said as Janet took hold of her son.


	6. Chapter 6

**Against the Branding**

**Chapter 6**

Janet hadn't been convinced that Andy didn't need a hospital, but once Aidan had cleaned the wound she saw it wasn't that bad after all. After a thorough examination of Dean's new and old injuries, John was satisfied he didn't need a hospital, either. Sam got ice for his brother's eye and sat next to him on the bed while Dean lay with it on his face.

There had been no sign of Frank in the basement when John and Aidan went back inside. There had been a few ghosts to fight off, but the majority of them seemed to have left when Andy no longer controlled them.

Driving toward the motel, John had called Brenda in case Frank was headed in her direction. It was a short conversation, but she'd sounded shocked at John's abbreviated explanation of what had happened.

It took a while for the adrenaline to leave everyone's systems. Once things were more calm, Janet stood in a corner of the motel room with John. "I'm so sorry about this. I had no idea –"

John nodded. "I'm just glad we got there in time. Do you have any idea where Frank might have gone?"

Janet shook her head. "None. I've tried to call him, but it goes right to voicemail."

While John spoke with Janet, he kept an eye on Andy. He was young and getting shot seemed to have a profound affect on him, but John still didn't trust him. Andy denied any knowledge of where his uncle might have gone and insisted that the ghosts attacking Sam and Dean in the basement was the complete plan.

While the group headed back to the motel, Sam had told them what kind of car Frank had been driving. Though he and Dean had been blindfolded, he'd overhead Frank and Andy talking about where it was parked.

After helping to get the boys settled in the room and checking out Andy's wound, Aidan had left in his car to see if he could catch up to Frank. He wasn't surprised to find the car not parked where Sam had told him it was – more than enough time had passed for Frank to get to it and take off.

Aidan drove around for a while, hoping to pick up the trail, but Frank could have gone anywhere. He went back to the motel.

"I don't want to appear ungrateful for your help today," John said to Janet once Aidan had returned. "But I think you should get Andy home and into his own bed."

The reality was that he didn't want the boy near his sons, and John suspected that Janet understood. Her car was still parked at the school, so Aidan drove them home.

"Let me take a look at that eye," John said sitting on the edge of Dean's bed once the others had left. Dean moved the ice bag away. "It looks a little better. Do you need anything for the pain?"

Dean shook his head.

"What about your stitches?"

"I'm fine," Dean insisted. "You've already looked me over."

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if I want to," John said. His tone was light and he saw a small smile on Dean's face.

-----

"They know your car, Aidan," John said into his cell phone.

"I'm not an amateur, John."

"Yeah, I know, but….just be careful. You don't have any backup."

"I'm being careful. You talk to Brenda any more? Is she still around?"

"I haven't tried calling her again, but I doubt she bailed completely. Why? You think she can help?"

"I don't know. Do you trust her?"

"I did, but that was a long time ago. I don't know about now."

"Yeah, I get that. I'll stay here for a while and see if anything happens."

"I want you checking in every 15 minutes, Aidan."

"You got it, Boss." Aidan ended the call and set his cell phone on the dash in front of him. He was parked down the street from the Brown home, but had a good view of the house. John was right that they knew Aidan's car, but it was parked in a lot several miles away. They wouldn't recognize the car he was currently…borrowing.

It would be better if there was also someone watching the back of the house, but manpower was limited. Aidan knew that John trusted Dean's abilities, but Dean had already been operating at a lower capacity than normal before being kidnapped and beaten. Sam knew his way around all manner of weapons and had good instincts, too, but John wouldn't risk leaving him in charge. Even though it was probably killing him not to be actively doing something, John probably felt he had no choice but to be with his sons to protect them.

Aidan looked into the rearview mirror when movement caught his eye. He saw someone he didn't recognize walk to the Winchester's house and ring the doorbell. The man waited on the porch for a few moments before taking a step back and pulling out a cell phone. While Aidan watched, he seemed to speak with someone and Aidan picked up his own phone to call John. When he heard John's outgoing voicemail message begin, Aidan dialed Dean's number.

"Hey, Aidan," Dean sounded tired.

"Hey, where's your dad?"

"He's here on the phone."

"You know who he's talking to?"

"Dude who owns the house. Why?"

"Someone's at your house...you know what the guy looks like?"

Dean described the man standing on the Winchester's porch and Aidan relaxed. "Yeah, that's who's here. Dean, are you okay, man?"

"Yeah."

"I hate to say it, Slick, but you don't sound like you're okay."

"Just tired and sore."

"All right. Take care of yourself."

"You, too. You're the one putting your neck on the line, man. I'm laying in bed in a motel room with John Winchester to protect me. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

Aidan chuckled. "You're probably right about that." He set the phone aside and watched as the landlord used a key to open the front door. A moment later, his phone rang – it was John asking him to run interference at the house so the landlord didn't see more than he needed to.

-----

After getting off the phone with Aidan, John told the boys to pack up what few things they'd taken out and get ready to leave. He knew Aidan couldn't be everywhere at once and even though he hated to do it, John needed to leave the boys alone to get out on the streets.

"Dad, we can get ourselves to another motel," Dean said after John told them his plan.

John looked at him. He knew Sam and Dean could do just about anything they needed to, but this morning, it was harder than normal to let them out of his sight. He never liked leaving them alone and always felt like he had a good reason for doing it. John sighed.

"Dad, really," Dean said. "And if you need us to, we can –"

"No," John said firmly. "I know you're determined, Dean, but right now you can barely stand and I'm not entirely sure you shouldn't be headed to a doctor. But, yeah, okay. You can get yourselves to another motel."

Despite Dean's protest, John carried his bag to the Impala while Sam grabbed his own. They were stashed in the trunk and John checked their weapons supply. While Dean leaned back against the driver's side door, John put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "He'll listen to you. Take care of him, okay?"

Sam nodded, looking serious, and John pulled him into a hug before they joined Dean.

"Why don't you let Sammy drive?" John suggested, seeing Dean's pale face.

"Dad, you're over-reacting."

"Humor me," John said with a hand on Dean's shoulder. He was too tired to issue an order.

Dean sighed and handed the keys to his brother. John watched as they headed off a few moments later.

-----

Aidan was heading back to his hiding spot when he saw Frank skulking toward the Brown's house. Frank didn't knock before opening the back door and going inside, and Aidan thought that meant he was not only welcome, but expected. He pulled out his cell phone to call John.

-----

"I can't believe you shot my son," Janet said when she heard Frank come through the back door. She was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee between her hands.

"You pushed me. What the hell was that, anyway?"

"I was putting on a show for John. Like I was supposed to."

"How is he?"

Janet looked at Frank, her expression cold. "He's all right. John's friend cleaned him up and dressed the wound. It's not that bad."

"You want me to take a look at it?"

"Not now. He's sleeping."

"You wanted to do this," Frank reminded her. "You –"

"I didn't think you were going to kill the man's children. I didn't think you were going to use my son to that way." Janet shook her head. "It's over. We're done."

"Janet, I –"

"No, Frank. I'm not going to let you use what my son learned to do for this…_sick _thing. Chris wouldn't want this, Frank. He wouldn't."

"That man killed your husband, Janet. He killed Andy's father."

"Yeah, that's what you've been saying. Even if that's what happened….I'm not going through with this. You lied to me. If I'd known what you were really planning….And how did you get Andy not to tell me? What did you say to him?"

Frank looked away for a moment. "If you're not going to help me, I'll find another way."

Janet stared at him, wondering how she'd let herself get wrapped up in his vendetta – and more importantly, how she'd let her son get involved. She shook her head. "Frank…."

"I was there, Janet. I know what happened."

"Even if John killed Chris outright, what you were planning to do? It's wrong, Frank. His sons didn't do anything – they weren't even _there_!" Janet stood up. "I think you should go, Frank. You're not exactly a good influence on Andy these days."

Frank looked at her, shock evident on his face. "Janet, I –"

"We'll talk more later. In a few days. Just go." She walked out of the kitchen.

-----

When Aidan saw Frank leave through the back door, he called John's cell phone. He wasn't entirely surprised to find out that John was almost at the house himself. Working in tandem, they tailed Frank to a motel room across town.

"What do we do now?" Aidan asked John. They were both parked along the street from where they could see Franks' room, speaking on their phones.

"I don't have a clue," John sighed wearily.

After a few moments of silence, Aidan cleared his throat. "So, what did happen with Frank's brother?"

"We were hunting a shape-shifter. The four of us. We were on its tail and split into two groups to trap it. Unfortunately, we lost track of it and it took over Chris' appearance."

"You were with Chris?"

"Yeah, but we got separated. Brenda and Frank caught up with me – I was at the entrance to an alley and thought I'd seen Chris run in there. Turns out it was the shape-shifter. Chris came up behind me, Brenda and Frank got there a few minutes later."

"Sounds like a damn confusing situation."

"That's an understatement," John said. "It was the shape-shifter who shot Chris. I was able to tell it was the real Chris, and I shot the shape-shifter. Frank and Brenda got to the alley just in time to see that, but Frank thought it was Chris."

"God, John."

"I blamed myself for a long time – thought there should have been some way for me to tell which was which."

"You know –"

"Yeah, I know. _Now_. But not then."

"You know, it's weird that Frank happened to see you here a couple months ago and Andy developed that nifty talent of his in that amount of time."

"It didn't seem to me that he had great control over the spirits. It still could be a new skill."

"I suppose."

"It doesn't really matter. What do I do about all this? It's not like I can kill Frank. He's human. And Andy is just a kid. But how can I make sure neither one of them try to get to Dean and Sammy again?"

"What about Brenda?"

"Brenda?"

"Yeah. You think she can help convince Frank that he's wrong?"

"I suppose it's worth a shot."

"Assuming we can trust her."

"Yeah. Assuming that."

After a few more minutes of conversation, John called Brenda. He gave her a more complete version of what had gone on that morning and she agreed to talk to Frank. John knew he was taking a chance, but felt he had no other option.

She arrived twenty minutes later. John and Aidan were still keeping watch and as far as they knew, Frank was inside his room. Brenda sat in John's truck with him, going over things again and discussing options.

"He's going to want to know how I found him."

John looked toward the motel. "Yeah. No reason to lie."

"Right," she said thoughtfully. "Yeah."

John reached for the door handle.

"Whoa, where are you going?"

"I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"He's liable to shoot you, John."

"I'm faster."

"Holy hell," Brenda sighed. "Let's go."

John and Brenda got out of the truck. They walked across the street and Aidan followed at a distance.

Brenda knocked on Frank's door after John checked his gun. He was standing to the side where Frank couldn't see him through the peep hole. He would also be out of sight when the door was opened.

"What are you doing here?" Frank asked, clearly surprised to see Brenda.

"I want to talk to you, Frank."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Can I come in?"

Frank looked at her with a knowing expression on his face. "Where is he?"

John stepped into Frank's line of sight, behind Brenda.

"This doesn't have to be ugly," Brenda said quickly. "Let's just talk, okay? The three of us."

"I knew you'd be on his side," Franks said icily.

"I'm not on anyone's side," Brenda countered. "Frank, please."

With a grunt, Frank moved aside to let them in. John closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. Frank stood against the opposite wall.

"Really?" Brenda looked from one to the other. "This is how it's gonna be?"

Neither man responded and Brenda sighed. She sat down in one of the two chairs situated around the small table in the middle of the room. "We need to talk about that night."

"There's nothing to say," Frank growled.

"That's where you're wrong. Look, I know Chris was your brother and I know….well, it's hard to lose someone you care about. But, Frank, blaming John? All these years? That's not healthy. And going after his children like that?"

"He should have done something!"

"You don't think I feel the exact same way?" John asked. "If there was something I could have done, I would have!"

"He was my _brother_, damnit!"

"We know that, Frank," Brenda said, her voice soothing. "But that doesn't change the fact that there was nothing John could have done differently. Maybe if they'd not gotten separated – maybe if the four of us had stuck together….Frank, come on. Deep down you know it wasn't John's fault."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let him out of my sight," John said.

"How…how did it happen?" Frank's voice was raspy.

John looked at him, surprised. He suddenly realized they'd never had a real conversation about what had happened that night. When Frank realized his brother was dead, he'd shut down completely. He'd refused to talk and certainly wasn't in the mood to listen. He'd taken off on his own not long after and that was the last John had seen of him until now.

"Chris and I were tailing the shape-shifter," John said, his throat tight. "It was dark, damn dark. We lost track of it, but Chris was sure he'd seen where it went. He took off and I followed him, but I got caught by a car – rolled off the hood. By the time I got to that alley…."

Frank looked at him and John saw him cracking. It wasn't something he wanted to witness, but there was no backing out now.

"Get out!" Frank screamed at John. He grabbed the closest thing he could reach – the phone from the desk – and hurled it in John's direction. The cord kept it from hitting him.

"I'm sorry, Frank," John said.

"Get out!"

John opened the door and backed out. He saw Frank slide down the wall and hit the floor hard. He covered his face with his hands and began to sob. With a glance in John's direction, Brenda went to him. She knelt down next to Frank and put her hand on his leg. John closed the door.

-----

"So, that's it?" John asked Brenda when she came out to his truck. He and Aidan had been waiting for her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I think so. I'm going to stay with him for a while."

"Call me later?" John asked.

She nodded.

-----

John took Dean to the doctor that afternoon. With everything that had happened, they'd both forgotten he had a surgery follow-up appointment and were reminded when the receptionist called Dean to push it back an hour due to an emergency at the hospital. The doctor wasn't happy about Dean's new injuries, but said they were fairly minor and he gave him a clean bill of health.

They were on their way home when Bobby called with some information.

"Got some news for you, too, Sammy," John said after Dean told his brother about the doctor's appointment.

"What?"

John sat down on the couch next to him. "It's about your friend, Tim."

"What did you find out?"

"It wasn't me. It was Bobby. Turns out Tim and his mom are in hiding, but it doesn't have to do anything with hunting. His father is in jail – seems he was an abusive alcoholic. He went too far one night and Tim's mother almost died."

"Oh, my god," Sam said. "That's horrible."

"Yeah," John agreed. "After the guy was sentenced, Tim and his mom left town, changed their names…they're just covering their tracks so he can't find them when he gets out of prison."

"I guess that explains why he's so private," Sam said thoughtfully. "Thanks for telling me, Dad."

John nodded.

Brenda didn't call until late into the evening. She'd spent the day with Frank and was convinced he'd realized the truth about his brother's death and was done with his need for revenge. She told John that Frank was leaving town the next morning and that she was going with him. He'd spend some time with her in Oklahoma before deciding what he'd do next.

"So, if we don't have to worry about Frank any more, can we stay until the school year is over?" Sam asked after John relayed his conversation.

"Andy's still here, Sammy."

Sam was about to protest, but he saw Dean's warning look and backed down.

"Look," John said, sounding tired. "It's Friday. Give me the weekend to think about this, okay? Maybe we can figure something out."

Sam nodded, surprised that his father was open to the possibility of staying. As it turned out, the decision was taken out of John's hands.

-----

The next morning once everyone was awake and dressed, they went to a nearby diner for breakfast. With the doctor's okay to eat whatever he wanted now, Dean perused the menu carefully. After finally deciding on scrambled eggs with bacon, sausage and a side of pancakes, they were finally able to place the order. John's cell phone rang almost as soon as the waitress walked away, and he went outside to answer it.

"John, it's Janet."

"How's Andy?" John asked, just because he thought he should.

"Physically, he's fine. The wound doesn't look like much of anything and he says it doesn't hurt at all. Emotionally….well, that's a whole other story."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Look, uh, I just wanted to let you know that Andy and I are going to leave Merrillville. I don't think it would be good for him or Sam to see each other, and….well, I think we should be near Frank for a while, too. This family has a lot of healing to do. And I know that there's no way I can ever apologize enough for what almost happened."

"At least we got there before it got too far out of hand," John said, his voice tight. He was still angry about the whole situation. "Janet, I'm just curious, but Andy's ability…."

"I didn't know about it, but we talked last night. He told me that Frank noticed the talent – apparently Frank took him on a hunt that I didn't know about, to some haunted house or something. Frank encouraged him to develop it and even found things to help him with it."

After hearing that, John wasn't sure Andy really needed to be around his uncle, but it wasn't his decision. On the other hand, if the boy did decide he wanted to hunt, being able to control spirits would be an excellent weapon.

"Can I ask when you're leaving?"

"Well, I'll still be here for a while. I have things to take care of, obviously, but I'm sending Andy ahead with Brenda and Frank."

"Oh. Well…I appreciate you calling."

"Yeah," Janet sighed. "John, I'm so sorry about everything."

"Let's just move on," John said. He couldn't tell her what he was really thinking.

"Goodbye, John."

"Good luck." John held onto the phone after the call ended and he took a deep breath. He wasn't entirely satisfied with how things turned out, but wasn't sure how they could be any better. John knew that Sam would be relieved to be able to finish the school year in Merrillville, but he wasn't sure of his own feelings.

Instead of going back inside, he dialed Brenda's number and elicited a promise from her to call immediately if Frank – or Andy – left town, or if she became suspicious in any way.

"John," Brenda said before letting him end the call. "I know things got crazy and we didn't really have the conversation I wanted to, but….It was nice to see you again."

"Yeah, about that conversation, I –"

"It's okay, John. I think I found out what I needed to know."

"Oh? What's that?"

Brenda laughed. "Well, I still you might be the one that got away, but it's probably for the best."

"I don't know what to say to that."

"Just take care of yourself, okay? I'll keep my eyes and ears open for anything that might help you find the thing that killed your wife."

"Thanks, Brenda. Take care of yourself, too."

John looked through the diner's window, to the table where his family sat. Dean was still a little pale, but John took comfort in the doctor allowing him to go back to his normal activities. Sam was laughing at something while Aidan was sitting back and smiling. It looked like they were ready to move on and John thought that maybe he should do the same.

With a deep breath, he opened the diner door and went back inside.

oooOOOooo

Becoming not what was trained  
Against the branding  
The fight begins now  
that all house arrest has died  
Parallel lives are all spent in suffering  
Knowledge is power/Knowledge is peril

_Branding the Muse_

Inner Surge

oooOOOooo


End file.
